Shadowed Tears
by Ghost Whisper
Summary: With Quatre's empathy changing, and Eris still a threat, how will he react to his kidnapping, and its results? Worse, how will he cope with Zero, which is no longer just a computer system, but a part of him? R&R please! Part 2: Zero, Chapter 3 Posted!
1. Chapter 1: Shadow of Death

Ghost Whisper: Hey minna! As you can tell, this is the first chapter of my newest (published) GW story. What you may not be able to tell is that this is an experiment in writing styles for me. Not only did I start experimenting with first person point of view for parts, but also the genre is pretty new to me. I am pretty inexperience with the slightly darker plotlines, and although I don't plan on getting too dark, it will get serious. 

For those of you wanting pointless humor, turn back now. There will be little humor in this fic. Please review. Any feedback is appreciated. Especially that which can help me improve my writing style. Criticism is fine, but TRUE flames will be deleted.

Walks by with protest sign Ghost should own Gundam Wing! Alas, I do not, so I cannot be sued! Hehehehehe!

**Shadowed Tears**

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**Chapter 1: Shadow of Death**

I heard the screams of terror and pain - perhaps though, it wasn't with my ears. Perhaps I only felt them. It had been that way since I was a child: feeling emotions, I mean. Each time I heard the cries, they tore through my heart like liquid fire, leaving behind a lingering heat - a need to fix what was wrong. And how could I not want to heal a pain that I shared in every way? Try to take their hurts as my own, healing broken hearts and broken minds.

It wasn't the same this time though. Those screams - echoes of the past - rebounded through my mind; illusory explosions rocked the world and forced it into a hell of fire and death. A distant part of my mind wept, and cried out that this wasn't me - I wouldn't do this! - But another shouted that they were enemies, forcing more destruction. And the pain continued.

Quatre awoke from the nightmare, platinum hair plastered to his forehead from the cold sweat which had formed sometime that night and was even now chilling him. Tremors wracked his body, viciously forcing movement from stiff limbs. He was not entirely sure however, if they were from the chill, or the terror which still haunted him.

By now, the nightmare was a familiar one, though knowledge did not dull his reaction at all, nor his pain. He still awoke shaking, his mind whirling frantically in all directions, unwilling to fall under anything resembling conscious control. His eyes were constantly haunted, shadows dimming his normally bright sapphire eyes with visions of what he had done when his father had been killed - while under the influence of the ZERO system. He did not consciously remember any of it, and in a way he was grateful for that small mercy - if it was that.

Even after he had 'gone whacko' as Duo put it, he had still retained his natural empathy. The emotions of others had still run freely through his heart, though unnoticed when fervor of invention had struck him. He had spent days without sleep or food, hell bent on creation. The creation of the machine his deranged mind had dreamed up, and named the ZERO system.

The machine forced itself into his brain; disrupting the pathways of all normal functions. It blocked his empathy, not allowing him to feel others. And so, when it threw him into a berserker rage, bent on the destruction of everything, he had thrown himself into it with a smile and a laugh, heedless - or perhaps just uncaring - of the cries around him.

Everything that was 'Quatre' shut down, and he became a demon, tearing into buildings and lives alike. 'They were all the same to you' his thoughts whispered quietly. 'You tried to kill Trowa, and then Heero; and it was no different to you than shooting at a piece of rock!' It cackled triumphantly as it finished, as if pleased with the way he had fallen. It had only been because of Trowa's sacrifice that he had been able to break away from the distortion of the mind caused by the ZERO system and his own madness.

And yet, he remembered none of this, save for the terrifying dreams which had come to him every night for the past two weeks. All of it was a complete blank. The ZERO system had been aptly named. A mind altering machine which gave you no emotions, no conscience. and afterward no memory of all the horrible things you had done.

'Trowa! I killed Trowa!' His first memory after that awful gap within his mind. A lurid patch of yellow, orange, and red fire, contrasting sharply against the dull grays and blacks - the muted tones of what little he did remember. The idea behind the words was false; Trowa had not died, although he had lost his memory. Even so, the emotions just barely held in check by those words were all too real, and the horror of them forced itself up his mind night after night.

It was as if he subconscious was trying to remind him of all he had done; all his misdeeds. 'I don't want to remember!' he cried silently, tears beginning to fall more freely down his cheeks, no longer constrained by the blocks he had placed in an effort for calmness. 'It hurts too much!' And it did hurt. The ZERO system may have blocked his empathy during that awful period, but in his dreams. he felt them then. All that had been denied him before was now pushed to the fore, their individual screams piercing his heart like a blade fresh from the flames.

'You caused it,' the snake like parody of his own voice hissed. 'You caused it, and you laughed; all the fighting, the war; destroying things with that huge machine. Just the name of a Gundam made them terrified, and you loved it! You enjoyed watching their screams as they died; their suffering!' Its accusing voice all the while rose to a drowning shriek in his mind.

The blond haired teen whimpered, hands reaching up to the sides of his head as if to push the voices away. "No," he whispered. "I didn't! That wasn't me! Stop saying that, and go away! Leave me be!" His words grew progressively louder in volume, and he squeezed his eyes shut. The darkness. it was overwhelming. At least the shadows that enveloped his soul were of his own making. Though terrifying, at the same time it seemed oddly comforting. 'My darkness.' Warm and welcoming, for a moment it almost seemed to block out the accusing voice in his head.

A warm salty tear fell down the side of his face, reaching his chin and trembling a moment before falling off into the shadows to land on one knee. The wetness quickly soaked into the black silk of his pajama pants, and for a moment he almost fancied it as blood. A morbid thought, which he immediately tried to chase out of his head. Stubbornly, it sunk its claws in.

'I'm covered in blood,' was the single thought of his dream-fogged mind. With a cry, he dived down onto his bed and buried his face in the pillow, sobbing. "It really is my fault they all died," he choked out between sobs. "I'm always trying to help them - heal them - and I ended up killing them!" So much blood, and it was all on his hands - all over the walls, the sticky red fluid crawling languidly downwards, the moonlight making it gleam in several spots.

He shuddered and buried himself deeper under the covers as a whimper escaped him. 'Your fault. Your fault. Your fault!' "No," he mumbled, the pillow drowning out most of his contradictions against the hissing voice in his head. "It wasn't my fault! Stop saying that!"

At his last words, the door to his room opened, causing a path of light to spill in through the crack. The sudden change of atmosphere caused the vision of the blood soaked walls to vanish; the red stains fading away as if they had never been.

"Quat? Are you okay man?" Grateful that the shadows his reddened eyes from viewed, Quatre allowed himself to somewhat hesitantly look at the silhouette outlined in the doorway. A slender but well muscled frame, with a braid ending at the hips; obviously Duo.

The blond gazed blankly forwards, recognizing, but not acknowledging Duo's presence. His mind still half caught in the grip of the dream, Quatre's eyes were glazed with the knowledge of not only the terror he had caused, but his own fear, and the self-hatred that filled him. He hardly noticed when his friend waved a hand in front of his eyes.

"My fault. All the screams - so loud. I can't stop them. Stop screaming. Stop; Stop!" He continued, chanting the same phrases over and over. A litany of anguished murmuring.

Duo frowned, and in a dim corner of his mind, Quatre recognized that he was worried, even though he couldn't find the strength of will to reassure him. Grabbing Quatre's shoulders, Duo shook the smaller teen back and forth. "Come on Q-man! Snap out of it! It's just a dream!"

'But it's not a dream.' he thought, another scream biting it's way through his memories and drowning out Duo's voice. 'This did happen - it is happening - right now. Why can't Duo hear them? Can't he see the blood that's still on my hands? It's on him now too. Surely he can see it now?'

A stinging pain brought him back to reality, and he found himself looking into Duo's troubled violet eyes. His hand reached up to his cheek where he realized his friend had slapped him.

Quatre blinked; blinked again. "Duo? What - " he gazed around his dark bedroom, the small trail of light from the hallway just enough to illumine their faces and show Quatre's confusion.

"Jeeze Quatre! That musta been some nightmare you were having," he sat down on the bed beside his friend, causing the mattress to sink and Quatre to lean into him slightly. "At least you weren't mumbling too loudly. Heero probably woulda ran in here and shot you, thinking you were an intruder or something."

"Y - Yeah," Quatre whispered, lowering his eyes to the bedcovers, which his hands were gripping spasmodically; claw like from the previous terror. "A nightmare." A small tremor shook his body, and then vanished.

"You gonna be okay Q-man? We got a meeting with the Preventors tomorrow. It's supposed to be really important. You're not sick or anything are ya?" Duo made as if to feel his forehead for signs of a fever, and Quatre jerked back reflexively, not wanting to feel the stronger emotions that his friend's touch would bring.

"I'm fine Duo." He sighed, running a hand through blond hair darkened by sweat. "It was just a nightmare. I'll be fine in the morning; so you can go back to sleep now." He gave Duo a small weak smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, and the braided Gundam pilot turned to go reluctantly. He was obviously disbelieving, in spite of the Arabian's words to the contrary. Duo had been too long a child living on the street to be unable to read others almost as well as Quatre could.

As soon as Duo left him, Quatre fell back onto his pillow with a sigh. "Why must I keep getting these nightmares?" He whispered. "Am I actually remembering what happened after father died? Is this some sort of punishment?" Closing his eyes, he began some of the relaxing meditations he had learned as a child, in an attempt to bring sleep. At first it seemed a futile exercise. The visions had been so extreme; they seemed indelibly stamped on his memory. His body's demands soon overwhelmed those of the mind however, and he fell into a restless sleep.

Dawn found Quatre sitting at the large kitchen table with a cup of tea in front of him, staring absently out the window while the sun painted the sky a rainbow of golds. The silence of the early morning, which was usually relaxing for him, now seemed oppressive when combined with the terrors of the night.

Picking up the warm mug, he noticed how his hand shook slightly from exhaustion. 'Even when my body forces it on me, I get so little sleep' he thought with a grimace. Unbidden, memories of his dreams came back to him. Even after Duo had come, his sleep had been anything but peaceful. He still remembered a particularly vivid dream where the ghosts of people came to his, shouting and screaming accusingly of all the crimes he had committed.

Even if he couldn't help it, Quatre knew he would come to regret the lack of rest when it came time for the meeting that day. It wasn't as if they had been out of the sleeping pills that Duo frequently took to help his sleep. Still, he hated the thought that he might have to resort to any kind of drugs to calm down his rebellious mind.

"Winner." the quiet greeting caused Quatre to look up in surprise. He realized that the sun had by now fully risen. Even so, it was quite early, though Wufei often did get up with the dawn like Heero. The Chinese pilot had pulled several eggs from the fridge by the time he had finished with his thoughts, and was now busily frying them on one of the large cast iron skillets Quatre kept in the kitchen for whoever's turn it was to cook.

"Do you need any help with that Wufei?" He got up from his place at the table, and moved to gather the ingredients fro the meal. Wufei nodded thankfully, and for a few minutes they worked in a comfortable silence, Wufei not commenting on, or not seeing Quatre's still shaking hands.

"You do not look very well Quatre." Wufei's voice floated over suddenly, breaking the stillness of the room. The Arabian turned from his bowl of pancake batter to add some sugar; making them sweeter the way Duo liked them. He silently added the white granules, ignoring Wufei's disapproving comment. "Quatre." Sighing, he looked up to see Wufei paused in his cooking, and frowning at him.

"It doesn't matter Wufei." He snapped. "It's just some bad dream's I've been having lately. Nothing to worry about." He tried to put sincerity into his voice, though Wufei still watched him dubiously.

"I'll say it again Quatre. You don't look well. Are you able to work, or do you need to call in sick?"

Quatre flushed angrily. Wufei was treating him like a child who wouldn't admit he needed a nap. "I told you Wufei; I'm fine." He glared at his friend, whose eyes widened faintly in surprise, and Quatre realized he might have been a bit too vehement in his protestations.

He took a small step backwards, intending to apologized and make up some excuse for his short temper. His steps ended up carrying him right into Trowa, who had just stepped silently into the kitchen.

The platinum haired teen gave a small gasp, and stiffened as if struck. A small image - a group of scowling men surrounding him - now a blond haired man in a red flight suit being shot, the blood pooling beneath him - standing on a thin rope, high above cheering crowds in a dimly lit tent - Everything passed through his mind in moments; causing him to cringe, his brain feeling as though a live current had flown through it.

Suddenly the contact was broken as Trowa stepped back from him, Quatre leaping forward and away at the same time. He turned around to face Trowa, his eyes wide in shock, and a slightly glazed look to them. Without another word, he ran out of the room and upstairs to the bathroom adjoining his room, where he was violently sick.

"Something is wrong with Quatre," Trowa noted simply, when the two pilots were left alone. Wufei nodded in agreement, still silently wondering about the abrupt change in attitude for his normally gentle friend.

Quatre knelt on the cool washroom floor tiles, coughing as his stomach at last stopped spasming. "What is happening to me? Trowa - were those memories?" Reaching out blindly, he grabbed a piece of tissue to wipe his mouth off, and then stood up shakily, pouring himself a glass of water to wash away the sour taste in his mouth.

"Allah, what is happening? My space heart - my empathy - Is it growing stronger? Is that why just by touching Trowa - ?" He broke off that stream of thoughts and words as he left the washroom. Heero would be awake by now, and he didn't want to alert anyone else to his problems.

He began to slowly, quietly descend the stairs toward the front door, where hopefully he could leave for the Preventors office before Wufei or Trowa could confront him. Halfway downstairs, he found himself having to clutch the banister tightly as a dizzy spell hit him, causing his vision to blur. As soon as it passed, he hurried down the remaining steps and stumbled out the door before his body could betray him any further.

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_Chapter Song: Weathered, by Creed_

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Ghost Whisper: Well what did you think? That is definitely not the end. I'm already planning out the next chapter. Please review and let me know what you think. Any comments about things to do differently (as long as they don't disrupt my plot) are greatly appreciated. 


	2. Chapter 2: Desperate to Forget

**Ghost Whisper**: I'm so sorry everyone! I was working on the second chapter and everything was going great, until - poof - writers comes up and smacks me on the back of the head. I was trying really hard with this chapter though, so I hope it turned out okay. 

Thank you to everyone who reviewed!

Gundam Wing does not belong to me. Never has, never will, unless the owner decides to give it to me. Please?

Warnings: Possible OOC, lots o' angst, some depressing themes.

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**Chapter 2: Desperate to Forget**

The first time I felt the emotions of another was when I truly realized that I was different. My childhood had been relatively normal, except for that constant nagging feeling that something was wrong. It haunted my sleep, to some degree, bestowing upon me more nightmares than the average child. My father thought that it was do to having an abnormal family life. A child with a rich father, and twenty-nine sisters would surely have more to worry about than others, wouldn't he? Add that to the fact that I was expected to be my father's only heir because my mother had died when I was too young to remember her, and you had the perfect set up for a restless sleep.

None of these things had ever bothered me too much though. With twenty- nine sisters, I got all the mothering I could need, and was able to spend a day with a different one nearly every day of the month. The fact that I had never known my mother was a wound to my heart though, as was the fact that my father was ever busy and had little time to spend with me. Even those however, were overshadowed by the continuing sense that I didn't belong which followed me everywhere as I grew up.

The emergence of my space heart finally showed me why I felt this way. I didn't truly belong, and no matter how much my family loved me, I never would. Like those few others out there born different, I would always have something to hide. There would always be a wall between me and others created by something that in theory should bring me closer to them.

What would my friends say if they knew the extent of my empathy? I had told them of my space heart of course - it had troubled me in front of them too often for them to let it slide without an explantation, but I had never truly explained to them what it was. In the beginning I hadn't felt the need to. Vague feelings were all well and good, but not enough that it was important to let them know. But now? How could I explain to them the thing that made me so different? How could I tell them, that not only did I know if they were in pain, but that I could feel there emotions, and even see their memories? What would our friendship turn into?

Jeff frowned as he thought about the passenger in the back of his taxi. He normally didn't think much about those who called for a ride. Even at the times when he actually engaged one of his customer's in conversation, they never really stuck out in his mind as someone important to remember.

While he was just as eager to make a buck as any other man, Jeff could hardly be called selfish or uncaring. As a matter of fact, he was a family man with two children at home. It was perhaps this fatherly nature that made this particular customer stand out in his mind so much.

He was young. A boy - a teenager actually, but his small size and quiet nature seemed to make him seem younger than he truly was. Upon gazing back in the rearview mirror, Jeff noticed the dark circles under the boy's eyes, and the pale almost pasty complexion. What truly disturbed the cab driver however, was the haunted look in the boy's eyes. 'No one that young should have eyes like that,' he thought. 'Something must have happened to him in the war. Maybe he lost family or friends.'

It was the only answer Jeff could find that put a reason behind the youth's expression, though Jeff still wondered why such a sickly looking boy would be traveling - and to the Preventors' office no less!

It occurred to him as he pulled up in front of the tall building, that perhaps the boy was going to testify at the trial of some criminal. If he had stayed a little longer before driving off, he would have noticed the pale youth showing a Preventors badge to gain access.

Quatre gazed out the window of the taxi where the spreading sunlight was giving a hazy gleam to the air around the trees. It was just turning autumn, so the leaves had only begun changing colors recently, and were freckled between the usually green and the new reds and golds. Here and there a purple leaf peeked through like a half hidden bruise, as though they were imitating him and trying to hide some kind of pain.

A surge of curiosity hit his mind like a wave, breaking over it before fading away. Quatre bit his lip hard trying to hide his reaction to the mental blow as he looked up into the rearview mirror. The driver's eyes met his momentarily and then looked back to the road. A metallic taste hit his tongue, and Quatre quickly withdrew his teeth, realizing that he had drawn blood.

He was lucky to have been able to find a taxi at this time in the morning. I couldn't have been much more than 6:30 am, and as far along the outskirts of the 'main city' as he lived; few taxi drivers even went there on their own.

'Yeah, I was lucky. I don't even want to think about what would have happened if I had tried driving with these dizzy spells I keep getting.' His stomach churned in agreement, and he looked down sickly, unable to bear watching he trees and road pass in blurs of color anymore.

'I don't understand why now - of all times - my empathy would start getting stronger. It never showed this much of a change in strength, even when I was growing up.' He almost had to suppress a shiver at the memories that last thought had brought about.

FLASHBACK

"Come on Quatre! I know you have the ability! All you have to do is make him angry!" A young boy of about ten, with platinum blond hair shook his head violently back and forth; eyes wide with shock at what Instructor H was asking him to do. The man in front of him was wearing grimy stained clothes and had thick handcuffs snapped around his wrists. He must have been a local criminal, and yet Quatre still couldn't bring himself to use his power like that.

He could feel the nervousness radiating off the man without even looking into his eyes, and stubbornly kept his own face downcast. He would feel it when this man became angry too. The thought of such an ugly emotion crawling through him like a disturbed viper sent a shudder up his spine that he worked hard to quell.

The criminal gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, obviously steeling himself to be touched by Quatre's mind; danced about like a puppet on strings. "I can't!" He shouted. "I won't Instructor H." He fell to his knees and curled up into ball on the dusty wooden floor. "Please. stop telling me to.!" This last was said in a whimper as he began sobbing, tears soaking into the dust on the floor and making it grime.

Instructor H looked at the crying boy, an expression of anger and disgust crossing his face in a sneer. Quatre didn't move, flinching away from his teacher's fury as he walked out of he room, his footsteps echoing emptily on the floor of the nearly vacant room.

END FLASHBACK

'Even with his training, I had to continue. I had to fight for the colonies. But how could he think of my empathy as a weapon? He couldn't understand! He couldn't, and then still tell me to use it in such a way.' Quatre grimaced. 'Still, I was probably lucky. I don't know what Doctor J did to Heero, but - ' He broke off the thought, remembering Heero's cold eyes, and how they gleamed only with a flat emotionless light, never with laughter or happiness. Duo's comment from the night before floated back into his mind. 'I can only imagine what was done to him, with the way he turned out.'

/But wouldn't it have been better that way/ The voice from his dreams last night asked in a conspiratorial tone. /If you had become a 'perfect soldier' like your friend. Imagine the destruction you could have caused/ It cackled gleefully, throwing visions of exploding buildings, balls of fire enveloping them like monstrous mouths, into his minds eye.

Quatre heard that part of himself laughing, and felt it revel in the pleasure the imagined destruction brought to it. He clenched his fists hard, trying to drive the 'other' away, and feeling a slight stab of pain where his fingernails dug into flesh leaving red crescent marks on the palms of his hands. After several minutes of sitting tensely, he felt something begin to fade out of his mind, and allowed himself to relax. The other presence that had momentarily shared his head was (to his great relief) gone; vanished as if had never been there.

'Is this what I am?' he wondered. 'Some sort of monster hiding behind a caring facade - one who truly lives on others' suffering?' Outside, the morning sun slipped itself behind a cloud, the butter colored light darkening as if in answer to his question.

The rest of the trip passed with few more incidents, though there was a time where he had begun to feel nauseous once more as he felt the drivers' eyes on him. Instead of talking with the man as he might normally have done, Quatre spent the remainder of the drive in silence, mutely contemplating the rips in the dark blue cloth upholstery as he tried to keep his thoughts and his stomach in check.

When they arrived at the office, Quatre, despite his illness, dragged himself out of the cab surprisingly quickly. Considering the wave of emotions that kept biting him, he really didn't want to be in close proximity to anyone at the time.

'Besides,' he thought. 'You never know when Lady Une or anyone else might choose to look out the windows. Something's wrong with me, but I can't let them know that! It's hard enough keeping things quiet as it is, without me slacking off because of an upset stomach and a little dizziness.'

The guard at the door stepped in front of him when he reached it, blocking Quatre's way in. He looked like a poster boy for army recruitment with his angular features, and short cropped sandy hair. The Arabian looked wan and sickly in comparison - certainly not as though he belonged there as a Preventor. This was pushed home with the man's suspicious frown as he compared Quatre's features with the ID card he held up, even when it was passed under the laser scanner for proof that it wasn't fake. 'I must look worse than I thought' Quatre decided.

His frustration at the wait getting the better of him, Quatre allowed himself to snap at the guard. "Well then? Have you decided whether or not I'm a spy? I assure you that I am who this card says I am - Or do you want to call Lady Une down and ask her?" Cowed by Quatre's penetrating - if less than practiced - glare, the man waved him through the doors.

'Past another obstacle.' The blond sighed, running a hand distractedly through his hair. 'I really must look worse than I thought. Either that, or the guard is new. Most of the men are able to recognize us Gundam pilots - most people in general can recognize us for that matter. Still, I shouldn't have snapped at him. It's not his fault that - that - ' His thoughts ground to an abrupt halt, brain shutting down in refusal to even put words to horror that affected him so greatly.

Quatre shook his head, trying to deny access to any more thoughts of that sort. His brow furrowed in confusion as he gazed around the hallway, realizing for the first time that he was completely alone. The clock on the wall read 7:30. 'Geeze, I must be out of it. I'm not usually one to space out like that. It must be my hair.' A small smile made its way to his lips as he remembered spiling a cup of sugar all over the counter once while making tea. Duo had come up behind him, and upon seeing the mess, had claimed that it was his 'blond heritage' showing through.

Thoughts of his real heritage inevitably led him back to his empathy. 'I wonder - did anyone else in my family have something similar to my space heart? Could I have inherited it? Or was I just some sort of genetic accident?' He smile darkened into a frown. 'Hopefully whatever's going on with my empathy won't be too obvious to the others.' He thought. 'I don't want them to try and get too close! Who knows what could happen? I might - I might see more memories. Even the more pleasant ones are painful. It feels as though someone is ripping my mind open and forcing them in!' Besides that, there was also the pain he felt in the purely emotional sense of the word. The perpetually blank look in Heero's eyes - he wouldn't want to see what caused it.

'But could they be so much worse then mine? Heero. he - he doesn't have to feel their pain all the time like I do.' Quatre scowled at himself, surprised that he could even think something so selfish. 'Stop it Winner! Stop feeling sorry for yourself! You in know position to judge others' pain!'

Sighing tiredly to himself, Quatre moved from his statue like position, and began to head toward the meeting room. Hopefully, he wouldn't be late. He'd already drawn enough attention to himself from Trowa and Wufei after his . . . display . . . in the kitchen.

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_ Chapter Song - When I'm Gone, by Three Doors Down_

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**Ghost Whisper**: So? Was it worth the wait? Please let me know what you think of the chapter, or the story in general with a review! It doesn't have to be long, but it always brightens my day! 


	3. Chapter 3: Let Me In

**Ghost Whisper**: Okay, first off, I would like to thank each and every person who has decided to review this story so far. You don't know how much it means to me, but suffice it to say, that this story probably wouldn't make it to the internet if it weren't for you. 

Special thanks go out to Starcat, Rocky, Ayeka Toriyama Sabat, dark vampire, Quatre Winner, SRSilverhawk, Mainstream Sovereign, Mish, Kana, Lily, Quatrenomiko, and quatre's wife. Thank you all for reviewing the last chapter!

This chapter is dedicated to Spencer and Khinei, for two of the nicest reviews I've ever received, and for encouraging me to get off my but and write the next chapter!

Warnings: Possible OOC (with good reason) lots o' angst, some depressing themes.

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**Chapter 3: Let Me In**

At one point when I was younger, I believe one of my sisters suspected something about my differences. I was never truly sure, because she didn't mention anything about it to me. However, sometimes when she thought I wasn't looking I caught her out of the corner of my eyes giving me odds, sometimes mistrusting looks.

I remember it now, because it was the same expression on Wufei's face just before I ran out of the kitchen after bumping into Trowa. That look of suspicion, modified with puzzlement and worry - not just in the eyes, but in the heart as well; a palpable know of emotions settling somewhere between my spine and my stomach. In Wufei's case, he had an obvious reason to be suspicious, if not a duty to. We were fellow pilots after all, and our lives depended on each-others ability to function. But what could have caused my sister Melody to be suspicious? Even when I first came into that nudge of power within me, I had been nothing but careful to conceal it from those around me.

So what did I do to make her suspicious of me? Maybe it was how I could always tell when someone was having a nightmare. Each time some member of the household had a troubled sleep, I would be waiting at the side of their bed when they woke up, trying to soothe the disquiet they were unaware that they radiated. Had one of the times I was there for her made her suspicious of me? Had my inclination to help people been my downfall in being discovered for what I truly was - an oddity, only partially human in some way?

The mental anguish of someone cried out to be healed every night, and for a boy of eight there was nothing I could do but slip silently from my bed to pad down the hall where the newest victim of their minds tortures waited. A soft touch, and a wave of soothing feelings later they calmed down, sometimes to wake, and sometimes not, but with myself always hiding behind the cover story that I had heard them cry out in their sleep and was wondering what was wrong. The dilemma of having someone know my secret didn't last long. After a week or so of covert glances, Melody gave up, and the event faded to the back of my subconscious.

It is different now of course. That small voice within me, urging me to keep my power a secret, seems childish in comparison to the responsibility on my shoulders that forces me to keep such an integral part of myself locked away. I must force it down; not tell my family, acquaintances, employers or friends. No matter how often I find myself in a war of conflicting emotions, nearly overcome to speak about it - even if to a complete stranger - I must remain in control.

What would happen if any of them knew? Would I once more find myself a pawn of those who seek to use the emotions of others as a weapon? Or would I be forced to quit my job, not allowed a role in what has always been my duty and my life - to somehow, someway, bring a measure of happiness - of freedom to others.

"I can't tell what it is Barton, but something has been off with Winner lately." Wufei leaned back into the semi-comfortable office chair, a frown crossing his tanned skin as he contemplated the difference in the normally kind and open pilot. 'He always had a smile for us before, as well as a few words. Now - it's as though he's haunted by something. When he bumped into Barton there was that flash of. I don't know what, in his eyes. Pain? Recognition? Knowledge? Perhaps it was some of all three. But what could have caused it?'

"Perhaps he truly is ill, and trying to hide it?" the Chinese pilot suggested, abandoning his earlier line of thought. "Winner always was the self-sacrificing type. He thinks he can do everything, and blames himself whenever something goes wrong. If he were ill, he might not say something, and continue trying to work."

It had happened before after all, Wufei remembered. Quatre had been injured on a mission where the blond was paired with Heero. A few cracked ribs and a concussion, it was serious enough that he should have rested for a week, and yet not debilitating enough that he couldn't hide it. Heero, concentrating hard on the mission, had accepted the Arabian's word that he was fine. The small blond had fooled them all actually - right up until the point where he had collapsed in the hallway of the Preventors building.

Wufei was broken out of his thoughts by Trowa's quiet, almost hesitant speech. "Quatre isn't sick." The Chinese pilot raised one finely arched eyebrow at the other, obviously wondering where the comment had come from.

"He would act differently if he were sick. I've been around Quatre long enough to realize that when he's ill he acts 'extra normal' if you can put it that way. Whatever is bothering him is more serious. He's been jumpy lately - you saw him in the kitchen - and there are shadows under his eyes."

"You're probably right Barton," Wufei admitted, the curious expression still on his face, though this time for a different reason. "I don't think I've ever heard you talk so much though. Are you really that worried about him?"

Trowa dropped his gaze down to his lap, hands folded limply over his jeans. He single visible emerald eye gazed at them blankly for a minute before he looked back up to met Wufei's questioning eyes, an unknown emotion warring for dominance with his usual closed look. "Quatre was the first person I could truly call my friend Wufei," he finally stated, voice soft and not revealing any emotion. "He spoke to me when all I returned was silence, and he treated my lack of speech as though it were an engaging conversation, rather that a mechanism to push him away. He deserves to have that kindness returned. I won't let him isolate himself the way I did."

With those words, Trowa turned away from the Chinese pilot, pretending the last few minutes had never occurred, and that the blanket of silence around him had never been lifted.

Quatre walked quietly into the briefing room, ignoring Trowa, whose single emerald eye staring at him brought up a wave of shame and discomfort. 'I wish I didn't have to keep this from him,' he though. 'But if I let him know, he'll try to help me, and he doesn't deserve to be entangled in one of my messes like this.' Anger at his own weakness washed up on him like a wave, and he struggled to keep his self-loathing in check. 'I want to protect him - all of them - from these mistakes of mine. Isn't it enough that I nearly killed him? That I am the only one of us who always seems to hesitate? I can't heap more problems on to them. They don't deserve it.'

Heero seemed to be engrossed in his laptop, which was the only one even out thus far, the rest of the Preventors choosing to wait for the meeting to begin, rather than giving themselves more work. Even with his eyes turned downward toward the screen, Quatre could still pick up feelings of suspicion from the Japanese pilot.

Wufei, like Trowa, was also giving him an odd look, which Quatre took as being accusing. The blond flinched away from him slightly, earning him a confused look from Wufei, who was wondering why Quatre suddenly looked - scared? - of him. 'Dammit! The blond pilot though, the uncharacteristic curse being the only think that could adequately express his emotions at this time. 'I've got to get a better grip on myself! Now Wufei's suspicious too. The only one who hasn't seen anything odd from me yet is Heero, and I still wouldn't bet on it, even with him being holed up in his room with that laptop!' He clenched his jaw tightly until his teeth began to ache, and searched out a vacant chair in the room.

The briefing room was quite spacious; an enormous rectangular table in the middle of the room taking up much of the space. Around the table were twenty odd chairs, each set up at even intervals and with a closed laptop computer in front of each chair, awaiting an occupant. Slowly men and women alike began to file into the large room taking a place to sit. Both Trowa and Wufei were sitting in chairs side by side near the door - strategically speaking, the could cut off most potential threats easier this way, as well as being able to dive into the hallway at a moments notice. Heero was sitting opposite Trowa, fingers tapping sharply across the keyboard.

Quatre immediately rejected any chairs within two spaces of his friends, and instead opted for a spot near the opposite end. The head of the table was reserved for Lady Une, and three other spaces were filled by idly chatting agents, however most of the other chairs were unoccupied. The blond pilot pulled out one that was third from the far end on the right side. He could feel his fellow pilots eyes on the back of his head as he walked past them, murmuring a brief "Hello" before continuing on to his chair at the other end.

Suspicion, Worry, Anger! The small pilot staggered as emotions hit him yet another uncounted time that morning. Quickly correcting his balance by grabbing onto the back of a chair, he moved forward the last few steps before sinking gratefully into his seat and staring resolutely forward. 'I don't think I can keep up this façade much longer,' he thought, worrying his lower lip gently between his teeth. 'Each time the emotions seem to get stronger, and I can't wall them out - I won't! I need to fix this before it gets any worse and they decide I'm unfit to continue working - but how?'

As hard as he tried, Quatre's normally strategic mind could come up with nothing that would remedy his steadily worsening 'condition' or the situation he was in because of it. After the many assaults from others', his mind seemed content to churn violently as his stomach did, with no more result than the beginnings of a stronger headache than his present one, and a reminder of his ongoing nausea.

The door opened and was closed quietly but definitely, revealing Lady Une. After all this time, Quatre still occasionally found it hard to reconcile his former mental image of her in an Oz military uniform, with the Preventor uniform she was currently wearing. This was one of those times that she seemed completely in control however, as it was obvious that for whatever reason she had called the meeting, she was deadly serious about it.

As the woman walked past him towards her seat, he was further surprised to note that although the casual grace she normally walked with was present, it seemed supplanted by an every that vibrated through her muscles and entire countenance. It was as though she wanted nothing more than to race off with her gun in hand, grab a mobile suit, and attack something. Quatre closed his eyes as a feeling of foreboding overtook him. 'Please,' he thought. 'Please don't let this meeting be about what I fear it will be. We are only starting to recover from the effects of war. Can't the conflict finally end?'

Lady Une - or 'General' Une - had her hair pulled today, in a style reminiscent of the way she had worn it while a part of Oz. This time however, it was only a single braid at the back of her head, which had been coiled tightly into a bun. Her eyes scanned the entire room in a sweeping glace, narrowing at the empty space that should have been Duo's.

"Well then," she began, apparently deciding to ignore the second Gundam pilot's absence. "If all those who believed it worthwhile to show up are here - " Before she could continue, the door answered her, slamming open as a black and chestnut blur dashed into the room and sat down, resolving itself into a grinning Duo.

"Sorry I'm late," he chirped brightly. "I kinda lost track of time." The leader of the Preventors frowned at his lack of concern, but the display went unnoticed by Duo, who bounced in his seat a little as though impatient to begin.

Giving one last glare towards the pilot of DeathScythe, Lady Une turned back to the group gathered in front of her, who were expectantly waiting for her to begin. "As I was saying, now that everyone need is here, we can get down to business. Everyone take out your laptops and open the file named 'Loki0312'.

Pulling out his laptop, Quatre quickly put himself of the 'network', taking a small shortcut he had recently discovered as a way of getting through the numerous passwords and scans of his clearance card faster. The small 'hole' was something very few would even be able to find, let alone hack through. The Arabian pilot suspected that Heero had found the shortcut long ago, and possibly Trowa, as they were the two pilots best trained in information gathering.

'I may not be as well trained as they are,' he smiled faintly. 'But strategy is my specialty, and getting through the security blocks is just a different way of applying it.'

Taking the brief reprieve from deep though, he quickly scanned the few mental defences he had erected. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at all, which in its own way was even more worrying. Schooling his features into a passive calm, he waited patiently as most of the others in the room gave frustrated sighs at the many security precautions. Finally, all were on the network, and had brought up the named file.

Lady Une cleared her throat, gaining the attention of all in the room. "The man you see in the first picture is the professed leader of a group of scientists and soldiers calling themselves 'Eris'. We don't know much about the man, or the organization yet, however the information we have gathered so far has allowed us to term their actions as threatening. Besides various thefts of valuable equipment, we have connected at least ten missing person's reports to them, including the noted psychologist Armon Noferston, and the daughter of one of the leading politicians in the L3 colony cluster."

Quatre frowned as he scrolled through the information in his file. Offhand, there seemed to be no common links in either the disappearances or the victims. The missing people were male and female both, and ranged in age from fourteen to fifty-six. One was a student, another a martial artist. There was the mentioned psychologist, as well as a talented clarinet player who had been asked to join one of the colonies' more prestigious symphonies. Why had this new organization taken any of them?

"Only one of the missing person's had been found as yet." Lady Une went on. Quatre quickly scrolled down to the next set of statistics. "He was retrieved just outside of an abandoned warehouse on colony L3-98ty67. We searched the building, but found no traces of occupation, leading us to believe that he was left there purposefully. When we retrieved him, he was in an unstable mental condition, and babbled about lights and voices. Shortly after, her fell into a coma and died." The blond pilot's breath caught in his throat at this piece of news. 'What could they have done to him?'

"Aside from the kidnappings," Lady Une continued after a brief pause to let them review the data. "The information we have received from various sources, as well as tests done on the one recovered victim, lead us to believe that Eris has been attempting some sort of physiological or mental manipulation on human subjects. The leader has somehow managed to retrieve files from Oz's computers, which were supposed to have been destroyed in the war."

'Mental manipulation?' Quatre paled. 'What kind of studies was Oz carrying out in the war that dealt with mind. control.' His eyes widened imperceptibly as an idea struck him. 'Oz didn't really have the resources during the war to develop something like that on their own,' he though. 'Not unless they were holding back. But there was one 'privately funded' project they managed to get their hands on.'

His lips twisted into a grimace of distaste at the idea of something so dangerous so - so evil falling into the hands of an organization such as Oz. 'And if they did get a hold of files like that, it will be all my fault.'

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_Chapter Song - Let Me In, by Save Ferris_

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**Ghost Whisper**: Well, I hope that you liked this chapter! It was hard work, what with trying to keep the writing quality, but also not taking a month or two to post. I hope that I succeeded! I haven't started the next chapter yet, but I have the mains scenes planned out already, so I'm hoping to have the next part out in a couple of weeks.

Please review!


	4. Chapter 4: Build Up Walls

**Ghost Whisper**: Whoo boy! I bet you thought I'd never get this chapter out, didn't you? I really am sorry about that, but it was due completely to circumstances beyond my control. Really! I was at summer camp for six weeks! Actually, it wasn't so much summer camp, as a 'Summer Training Centre'. Very little computer access, and no ability to update! Anyways, I am so sorry, but with my small bits of free time, I did manage to work on the next chapter, and it is longer than usual too, so hopefully it will make you all happy! 

IMPORTANT NOTE! I've gotten lots of reviews asking about the non-existent chapter 4. To answer any questions, I'll tell you that it is just that. Non-existent. I tried to upload chapter 3 during a period where was doing all sorts of changes, and it started telling me that most of my stories didn't exist. The stories are back thankfully, but I had to re- upload chapter three, because even though it said it was there, it doesn't appear. Sorry if you guys were all confused! ;;

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**Chapter 4: Build Up Walls**

Duo always was the best at lightening up a serious situation. He always seems to know what to say to make one of us laugh, or at least take our minds off of things. The other Gundam pilots and myself seem to be the only ones that realize that the smile on his face isn't always a real one - but even we hold on to that stubborn belief that at least one of us retains a shred of humanity in this hell the world has become. I forced myself for the longest time to believe, that even if he played the clown for us, not all of it was acting. That most of his smiles were real ones.

I hate myself for it now; and I'm sorry that I never noticed it earlier. I, for all of my vaunted empathy, nearly had to be slapped upside the head with Duo's pain before I realized how the war - how all of the death's tore at his soul.

That is my weakness I suppose. I like to believe that people will speak about what is troubling them - or at least, that I will be able to sense it. Stupid child. So full of yourself, and so arrogant of your own power. Maybe if I hadn't believed so much in my ability to sense emotions, and perhaps if I hadn't put so much faith in others speaking of their problems. I suppose that it is hypocritical of me. I have done everything in my power to keep my own secrets inside.

Believe. perhaps. suppose. To many uncertainties. And too much certainty before. If I had paid more attention, I might have been able to save Duo a lot of the pain he has been in. I might have been able to save the others as well. They've gone though so much, and given up nearly everything for the colonies. and yet they seem to feel they should give more.

Duo came back from a mission on his own last night. I suppose that's what sparked this journal entry. I've heard from so many sources that writing can help us work out our problems. and I hope it's true. Maybe if I can commit this to paper, than I won't have to remember any more. I won't have to be constantly reminded of the way his eyes looked when he came back.

It was in the middle of the night, and he hadn't told anyone of the mission. This one time, he decided to hold his peace; one time he decided not to mention a mission to us. this was the time it nearly broke him.

I remember waking late in the night from an ache in my heart I knew was caused by Duo. When I managed to track him to the hanger I found him sitting in DeathScythe, staring blankly forwards with his eyes clouded. It was a long time before I was able to get him to speak, and almost as long before I could speak myself.

"Shinigami strikes again Quat," he told me, and chuckled quietly to himself. I was scared when I heard it. The compound he'd been ordered to destroy had held an unknown amount of newly developed explosives in it. The detonation; stronger than it needed to be, had ended up destroying many buildings in the surrounding area, including a rather large hospital. Oh Allah! His eyes seemed so vacant then, as if a part of his soul had died. No one should have that look in their eyes.

I wondered how long Duo had lived alone with this pain. And I remembered how for as long as I had known him, he had called himself the God of Death.

(Quatre's diary - October 14, AC 195)

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A chill wind whipped past Quatre; the cold biting straight through his rather thin shirt and vest. 'I should have brought a coat with me. It is autumn after all.' He took a deep breath of the air, relishing the way it flowed into his lungs with a biting pain that washed away the muddled feeling in his head. 'If only all of my problems could be solved that easily.'

He took a step forward, and froze, one foot still behind him as he paused on the way to entering the house. 'Will they be home yet, or still at the office? And. should I try to avoid them? If I get to close I might let something slip, but if I avoid them, they may end up even more sure that something's wrong.'

The blond sighed, his shoulders slumping. 'Sometimes I wish we weren't all such close friends. This might be easier if we hadn't moved in together after the war, and if we were only 'comrades' as Heero used to call us. But the - even if I'm trying to keep them away, I still think they're the only reason I'm still sane.'

Pushing away the faint traces of hesitation that still lingered, he continued up the path toward the front door. 'If I'm lucky, they'll still be at the Preventors office. Otherwise. well there'll be no help for it eventually anyway.'

Quatre winced slightly at the creak of the door opening. It seemed loud - too loud - to him, and if the pilots were in the house it would surely get their attention. Even his breath sounded loud to his ears. He waited silently for one of them - most likely Duo - to barge in and demand what was going on.

Nothing.

Quatre let out a sigh. 'Now if I can just make it to my bedroom with similar luck.' He didn't tiptoe. That was too exaggerated a movement, and too slow. Besides that, he had learned early on in life that it hardly helped most of the time. He did however, attempt to call upon all of his training as a Gundam pilot in order to walk swiftly and silently down the hall to the wide staircase.

"Oi! Fei! It was just a joke man! Jeeze, you'd think that I dyed your hair pink with the way you're reacting!" Quatre stopped once again as the sound of voices approached him. He raised one hand to his forehead, rubbing it slightly as the broken silence reminded him once more of the dull throbbing headache which had plagued him all day. Bright sapphire eyes flickered shut for a moment, as though attempting to block out the world. They quickly opened however, and Quatre plastered a sunny smile onto his face.

Seconds later, Duo bounded into the room, taking a position up behind Quatre as soon as his saw the small blond. His stance obviously suggested that he was seeking protection from the angry Chinese pilot who stalked in at his heels.

"What did you do this time duo?" Quatre asked with a sigh and a reproving look at the American who was 'cowering' behind him. This earned him a hurt look from his friend, which was quickly replaced by a grin and a mischievous glint in bright violet eyes.

"Hardly anything Q-man! I just was just trying out some of the newest photo-editing software on that laptop you got me! You never know when that sort of thing could be useful you know - and besides that, you should see the results you can get with it! It's pretty cool!"

Wufei snorted. "Yes, and I'll bet you thought it so funny to see me with a beard, moustache, and horns, right Maxwell?"

"Nah," Duo brushed his friend's accusation off with a wave of his hand. "You'd probably have looked better if I had given you pink hair Fei. Those horns don't do you justice" The braided pilot snickered at his awful pun, and began running towards the door as Wufei decided that now would be a good time to take up the chase again.

'It's nice to know that some things stay the same,' Quatre thought with a small chuckle and a shake of his head, as he began the long trek up to his room. Wasn't there a saying that went 'If all else fails, seek comfort in the familiar'?

'Well, maybe not, but the sentiment is nice. and at least with Duo's convenient distraction, I can get to bed without worrying anyone.'

The first thing Quatre noticed when he reached the top of the stairs was the darkness. Actually, it wasn't so much dark, as it was extremely dim light. There was a small table light on at the end of the hallway, but the corridor was so long, that the light given off only served to cast shadows which gave one the illusion of walking down a tunnel.

The second thing that became apparent was the way the small shafts of light at the other end of the hall gave way to a tall shadow standing at the front of the door. Trowa. The pilot was leaning into his door slightly, emerald eyes glittering faintly and his arms folded across his chest.

"Quatre."

That one word - his name yes - but even spoken quietly, it managed to convey a volume of emotions too numerous to list, and most of which he couldn't pin down at all. There was concern, accusation, and even guilt. Quatre felt himself drawn to the taller boy through the link of emotions at the same as he wished to do nothing more than run; down the hallway, outside the house, and into the woods nearby to lose himself in the peace of nature. As though his body were a puppet, he walked forward, wishing desperately that he did have the courage to confess to Trowa.

"If you're going to ask me to tell you what's wrong Trowa, then you're wasting your time." He began, reluctant to speak, but wanting to break the oppressive silence that had settled around them even more. He forced a weary smile on his face. "Wufei's been glaring at me like I should be in bed all day, but a poor sleep last night hardly constitutes a major problem."

"Is that really what is going on Quatre?" His voice was calm; level. Only his eyes belied the apparently unaffected attitude of his stance. "You don't have to lie to us you know. We can all tell there's something happening that you aren't telling us - and the way you bolted out of the kitchen this morning is not something you do on a regular basis either."

Quatre sighed. Apparently, ending the conversation wouldn't be as easy as he'd hoped. Then again, when he was dealing with Trowa, it never was. The third pilot had an observant nature that allowed him to read and emulate others to a degree that was astounding, but although Quatre could fool him sometimes, he still had trouble hiding when he was upset.

"It's just a few nightmares Trowa; I - " it was obvious from his friend's expression that he wasn't buying it. 'I'd better tell him something useful then. He won't leave me alone until he's sure he knows what's wrong, and even if I hate to lie to him, it's for his own good. He doesn't need to know my problems.'

"I've been dreaming lately of what happened with the Zero system. You know - when you and Heero were piloting the Mercurius - and - and the Vayeate." He deliberately avoided mentioning how he had piloted Wing Zero. "Some of the memories I blocked out are starting to come back; and you can imagine that it doesn't make for a pleasant rest."

Trowa's one visible green eyes narrowed at his statement. "Quatre. what do you mean by 'starting to come back?' When did you ever lose your memories?"

The Arabian froze. 'Big mistake Quatre. You never told them about that part. You didn't tell any of them.' He stiffened his back, and resisted the urge to retreat a step from Trowa's sudden quiet anger. If ever there had been a time when he had felt like running from Trowa.

"It was after you were injured, Trowa, and Heero and I were hiding in the Sanc Kingdom while we looked for you and figured out how to continue fighting. Everything was so vivid at first. I used to wake up screaming every night because of what I thought I'd done to you." Quatre stared at the ground, unwilling to meet Trowa's eyes. 'I must sound like I'm blaming Trowa for his problems.'

"I think Heero was really frustrated." He continued. "He worried about what would happen next too, but he never mentioned anything. My nightmares must have just kept reminding him of what had happened - of what I'd done."

"You couldn't have known what the Zero System would do Quatre. None of us did. And it affected us all differently. It wasn't your fault about what it did to you - not with the state of mind that you were already in."

Quatre smiled a small, slightly bitter smile. "It's nice to hear you say that Trowa, but it still won't change my mind. I've always been the weakest of us all, both physically and emotionally, and after my father's death I couldn't have been less stable. I wasn't even in a state of mind!" His eyes grew distant as he felt memories of pain pulling at him.

"On some level I must have known what Zero would do, so I'll always blame myself. That was probably why I blocked out the memories of our battle. Heero and I were using a cover at a boarding school. I think that maybe the strain of the constant nightmares plus having to worry about the war, and whether we could go unnoticed was too much for me. I passed out in the hallway, and when I woke up in the infirmary I could only vaguely remember Zero, and that I'd caused destruction because of it. All of the direct and most personal memories were gone. It could have been passing out, or possibly a side effect of Zero, but I haven't been able to remember any of it since recently - and to tell the truth, I'm glad of that."

It was clear that Trowa was angry. Even before Quatre had began his explanation he could tell that the green eyed pilot was upset, but now it would be obvious even to someone without the benefit of empathy, or of knowing Trowa as well as he did.

"Quatre, how could you keep something so important from us! What if it was a side effect of the Zero system that caused you to forget? You can't always keep your problems to yourself!"

Quatre glared at him. "It was for the best Trowa! It didn't hurt me at all, and it helped me more than a little. I might not have been able to function in battle for much longer otherwise. Besides that, would it really have helped you to know? You would just have gotten upset - look how you're acting now!"

Cold Anger the needle of emotions stabbed into him suddenly. Trowa was angry with him - and with himself. 'Why would he be mad at himself?' Quatre wondered, but there was no time to probe Trowa feelings any further, even if he had felt comfortable doing so.

"And what about Heero? Or Duo? They used Zero too Quatre, as did I. If what happened with your memory was because of it, they could have been affected as well, if they haven't been already. For God's sake, Heero used it all the time until the end of the war! By not telling anyone, you might have endangered all of us - not just yourself!"

Trowa's words hit Quatre as though he had slapped him. 'I bet you never thought of that, did you blondie? You weren't the only one to use Zero. You thought you were protecting them, but you might have hurt them more! He finally gave in to his impulse and took a step back from Trowa, raising his arms up as if in defence.

"I - I didn't mean - "

"Of course you didn't mean for something to happen Quatre, but that doesn't mean that it couldn't have. We're all soldiers, and we can take care of ourselves. By trying to protect us, you stop us from being able to prepare for trouble!"

Quatre's cerulean eyes flashed, his anger coming back full force. "And what about me Trowa? I don't need or want to be protected either! I'll admit that I should have considered things better, but the fact remains that it's my problem! I don't want you trying to solve things for me! I don't want any of you to!" Scowling at Trowa, he pushed past him into his room and shut the door firmly, resisting he urge to childishly slam it in his friend's face.

A single green eye blinked slowly at the closed door and then shut. Trowa leaned his tall frame against the wall and gave a mental sigh.

'Well, that didn't go the way I was hoping - and it definitely didn't go the way I was expecting. I am such a fool. I should have seen earlier that Quatre was hiding something. Maybe if I had talked to him sooner, things wouldn't have blown up like this.'

The niggling voice that boasted residence in the back of his mind didn't want to give in to the false assurances of hindsight however.

'Are you so sure that things wouldn't have blown up this way? Quatre's been hiding his memory loss since the middle of the war. You would have reacted the same way you did tonight, even if you had gotten him to tell you weeks ago, and Quatre would have went on the defensive as well. Don't fool yourself.'

Trowa sighed. Although he hated to admit it, he found himself agreeing with the annoying little voice. He most likely would have lashed out in the same way.

'But how could he have been so stupid? Something so big as amnesia. He could have gotten himself killed!' What he didn't want to admit to himself though, was that it wasn't that which bothered him so much. What was done was done; it couldn't be changed. No, what upset Trowa so much was realizing Quatre's lack of trust in him. It wasn't a pleasant realization that there were things - many things - that his friend kept secret from him.

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_Chapter Song - Nothing Else Matters, by Metallica _

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**Ghost Whisper**: Well, there's chapter four. Apologies for taking so long, but I think it turned out pretty well, so hopefully it was worth it. Thanks go out to all the people who reviewed! I can't get a hold of all the names right now, but you know who you are!

Oh yeah. for anyone who's curious, Heero will be making an appearance soon!


	5. Chapter 5: Outside the Bounds of Comrade...

**Ghost Whisper**: Chapter 5! Wheeeee! I actually managed to write this! Looks at pages and pages of scrapped writing and dialogue I wasn't sure I would be able to, with all the trouble I was having - but you guys made it possible! And also my most wonderful beta reader: NightMare! Waves banner around 

Anyways, thanks so very much for all of your support!

About the intro: This takes place right after the episode where Heero self- destructs. Quatre doesn't know yet that he's still alive. Yes, I do know that he survived.

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**Chapter 5: Outside the Bounds of Comrades**

_I can't believe Oz! I can't believe the scientists; especially Doctor J! First they train us to be Gundam pilots, and then they throw us away! I know that we must be prepared to give our lives for the colonies. I agreed to this when I first told Instructor H that I would pilot Sandrock, but . . . Somehow J's order for Heero to self-destruct seems so pointless . . . so completely wasteful . . ._

_I'm probably saying this because I can't stand the thought that one of my comrades - someone who could have, under different circumstances been my friend - could be killed. Even if Heero and I haven't known each other for very long, I hate the idea that he would lose his life so early on in the war; that he would die without knowing whether or not he was able to do some good for the poor innocents out there who've been dragged into this mess. I truly hate that he would lose his life at all . . ._

_Instructor H would say I'm being foolish. I'd be tempted to agree if I didn't hate the man so much. Actually - I don't hate him . . . but I hate the way he thinks. I despise the fact that he could think one life so useless in the grand scheme of things. Doesn't he know that one life could have been the deciding factor in this war?_

_But then . . . maybe my empathy makes me too sensitive to these things . . . Thinking back, I remember the determination in his eyes - in his soul! - As he pushed the button that he knew would destroy him, and prevent Oz from getting him or his Gundam. I remember the pain that left me gasping and clutching at my heart as he was caught in the explosion. It was worse than the most intense emotions I've ever found myself caught up in. And for all of that, I still can't tell if it was physical or emotional pain I was feeling._

_I still can't tell if Heero was a friend, but I think the answer is yes._

_The moment I came close enough - even if I couldn't sit and talk with him truly - I knew, and felt in my heart that we could be friends. I knew that if we had been able to talk, I might have found something in him that was the same as me. I might have found someone who understood about hiding our true selves from the world - hiding that forgotten piece of our hearts that retained a measure of innocence. Without my knowing it. . I think he became my friend . . .even if it was only in my mind._

_I lost a friend today. . . For the first time. . . and that hurts more than any of the pain I felt during the explosion..._

_Sandrock Voice Log - March 5 AC 195_

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Heero had been sitting in front of his laptop for several hours now. His back was stiff, there was an ache between his shoulder blades where a muscle had tensed up, and his eyes were dry and stinging from staring at a glaringly white computer screen for such a long amount of time.

It was laughable, really, the pathetic amount of information that he had managed to turn up in the lengthy time he had been searching. Duo might have laughed anyway. Heero didn't laugh much under the best of circumstances, and he had sunk far below that level.

He swore quietly at the screen, irritation making it's way into his tone. After finally managing to hack through the numerous layers of firewalls and password-protected programs of a forgotten Oz data bank, he had thought he would find some promising information.

File # 92B60000 Hard data lost. Backup file sent.

00010000100101010101110000. 00100001000001.

The files had been sitting for so long they had degraded to near uselessness. As it was, he could barely even access them - not because of security, but because they had been corrupted.

File # 27G40000 Hard data lost. Backup file sent.

Heero glared at the machine, the blinking cursor at the end of the statement mocking him. 'I know a backup file was sent,' he growled silently at it. 'I want to know where it was sent, and exactly what was in the file.' The computer, being a machine, declined answering.

It wasn't only hacking into the remnants of the Oz database that was frustrating. At least in that respect, he had a cause that he could pin down for his failure - even if it didn't excuse it. He could deal with the world of the physical. Calculations of trajectory, and aiming a firearm were things that he had been taught to handle. When it came to relationships, and emotions however, he was lost.

Even a year after the true end of the war and the destruction of the Gundams, Heero still had little experience in dealing with his friends. It was no wonder than, that there was a constant nagging at the back of his mind about Quatre.

'The way he's been acting lately . . .it's as though he's withdrawn into himself.' His thoughts drifted back to the previous night when he had been up doing some paperwork for a previous mission. His sharp hearing had picked up muffled cries though the wall of his bedroom, which was side by side with Quatre's. He had partially opened his door to find out the problem, when footsteps alerted him to the presence of another.

'Perhaps I should have gone in with Duo,' he thought. 'If Quatre is having nightmares again . . .' At one point in time, he would have tried to suppress the pull of emotion. In battle, to have someone you cared about was to have a weakness that could be used against you - or so he had believed.

During the Eve wars he had felt concern on many occasions: When Trowa was shot down by Quatre, when he had learned of Duo and Wufei's near suffocation while being held captive by Oz, and when Quatre had been ran through with a sword while he was fighting to stop White Fang. Each time, he had tried to fight against the pull of emotions, but lost nearly as often as he came out the victor.

He no longer tried to fight the possibility that he could live and care about people; that he could be a soldier as well as a 'friend' - if he was using the term correctly. Years of being told to neither show nor feel emotion had made it hard to distinguish the best way to act or react in most forms of interaction.

'Am I concerned for his welfare because he's me friend? Or is it because with a new mission for the Preventors, now is not the time for weakness?' He sat still for a moment, debating it over with himself. Finally, he shook off his contemplation with a grunt of irritation.

Despite his best efforts at control, however, his thoughts continued to spin aimlessly. Every time he reined them in, they slipped away like a handful of water. Frustrated, Heero placed his hands in front of him on the desk, and pushed himself up, turning to leave the room. 'This is getting me nowhere.' Voices stopped him when he turned toward the closed door, as they grew loud enough to travel through the wood.

"-stop us from being able to prepare for trouble!"

"And what about me, Trowa?" Quatre's voice asked angrily. "I don't need or want to be protected either! I'll admit I should have considered things better, but the fact remains that it's my problem! I don't want you trying to solve things for me! I don't want any of you to!" A moment later, Heero could hear the door to Quatre's room shut rather forcefully, and his own door vibrated slightly in response.

Heero waited for a minute, wondering whether or not Trowa would try to follow the blond into his room. No more sound disturbed the peacefulness of house however, and when Heero opened his door, he was confronted with the image of a disturbed looking Trowa leaning against the wall between his door and Quatre's. One hand had reached up to absently rub the side of his head as though he were getting a headache.

The Japanese pilot frowned at the sight. There weren't many things that could truly upset Trowa. Even if he had been more open since the end of the wars, he face was still closed to emotion much of the time. He was like Heero in that respect. What had Quatre said that could have this sort of effect on the often-expressionless pilot? Especially seeing as Quatre and Trowa normally got along better than any of the other pilots.

"Did you hear everything?" Trowa sounded tired - as though the argument had drained the energy from him.

Heero assessed the taller pilot, searching for some clue as to what had gone on. "No," he answered after a moment. "Just the end."

"Heero - " The green eyed pilot seemed to be struggling with something. His muscles were tensed as though ready to spring into one of the complex acrobatic routines he was so well know for. "We should talk - in private."

This prompted a raised eyebrow, but little other response from Heero. Without a word, he walked back into his room, jerking his chin in a gesture to follow.

Trowa hesitated a moment, before shrugging off his conflicting thoughts and entering the room.

He pulled the door shut silently behind him.

Trowa had his arms crossed over his chest, and sat in a chair at the corner of Heero's bed. While his expression was blank, he knew that Heero would be able to tell it was forced. With the chair at his desk turned to face the bed, rather than the laptop as was customary, Heero and Trowa watched each other in silence for a moment, before Trowa put words to the questions bothering him.

"How did Quatre act while you were in Sanc, Heero?" He asked. "What I mean is, how did Quatre react after he regained control of himself from the Zero System?"

Heero, already curious, had his attention quickly caught by the question from the other pilot. "Why do you mention Zero? I know, from talking with Wufei today that Quatre's been acting odd, but what does that system have to do with things? It was destroyed along with Wing Zero months ago."

"I know that Heero. I want to know because Quatre let something slip a minute ago that I don't think he told anyone of."

"And?"

"He lost his memories Heero. Everything relating to this system and how I was injured was . . .blurred in his mind sometime after the two of you arrived in Sanc. Didn't you notice that something had changed?"

Heero's eyes narrowed at the almost unrecognizable accusation in the other pilot's voice. "He was fine - mostly. He did have nightmares every night for a week or so, but they ended. I thought that he had managed to come to terms with his loss of control. You're saying that he just forgot what happened?"

"He told me he did." Trowa felt a wash of relief that he forced himself to control, when he realized that Quatre hadn't told Heero either. He also felt an irrational surge of anger at the man who was supposed to be so observant.

"So what's wrong with Quatre?"

"I'm not completely sure." Trowa confessed. "He says that he's regaining those memories that were glossed over - but I don't think that's enough to make him break down like he did this morning at breakfast."

"Zero." The Japanese pilot stated the single word with a note of finality. The leap in reasoning held no logic to Trowa at first, but after a moments' thought, he realized what Heero must have been getting at.

"You said it was destroyed," he argued. "Quatre knows the effect it has! He might have mastered the system, but he wouldn't be so foolish as to use it, even if it still existed!" Though reasoning rejected the idea, Trowa found his mind stubbornly latching onto it, if only as a way of excusing their fight.

"It fits what's been happening. The original may have been destroyed, but Quatre must have memorized the plans. As it's creator, he would likely have been able to recall the details to build it - and since there aren't Gundams to install it in, the system would have to be in a more compact form - something that he could hide."

"It has restored memories . . ." Trowa trailed off. He hated to admit himself that Quatre could ever behave in such a manner, but - it fit. It didn't make any sense that Quatre's memory would decide to spontaneously restore itself. Most often there was an outside influence.

"We have to find Zero if he has built it again," Heero continued. "Quatre may have mastered the original Zero system, but it's quite likely that a different version could have similar effects. As you said - it doesn't seem to be only regained memories that are bothering him."

Trowa nodded, and the two began to synthesize a plan. 'I just hope that we can find the system in time - before Quatre changes any more . . .'

* * *

Quatre leaned against the door to his bedroom. The moment he had put the thick wood between himself and Trowa, all of his anger had left him, leaving the Arabian feeling empty inside, with vague emotions of shame at his outburst crowding in on him.

"What have I done?" he whispered quietly. He pulled one knee up towards his chest, as though the limb could protect him from the remorse now flowing through him. "Trowa - Trowa was only trying to help, and I - I blew up at him. First I pull him into my problems and get him worried, and then I push him away and tell him to leave me alone."

The blond sighed, and allowed his head to slump forward onto his knee, resting his forehead there, and letting his hair fall forward to obscure his vision of the rest of his room. "I'm such an idiot."

Fists clenched at his sides, and he grimaced. 'Stupid Quatre. . . always feeling sorry for yourself. When your father threatened to disown you for fighting in the war, you bemoaned his lack of understanding. When he was killed you completely broke down. And now you and Trowa get in one little argument and you sit here sobbing like a baby? Pathetic. . .'

Startled, Quatre removed his teeth from his lower lip as a sharp metallic taste hit his tongue. He'd been so intent on his internal dialogue; he hadn't even realized he'd been chewing through layers of flesh until he tasted the blood.

'Self-destructive aren't you? Interesting . . .' A laugh rang out in the back of his mind, hysterical, and with an edge of anger.

Quatre took a deep breath, consciously relaxing his muscles. He didn't have time to worry about Trowa, or his dreams, or his empathy. A flick of a small black switch, and his computer was on. Most of his data dealing with the Gundams had been lost during the war, but there was one place . . . A hidden, encrypted, password protected, fire-walled data bank - an electronic databank that he had created in his madness, that not even Heero would be able to break into.

The memory of Zero still existed.

And if it were needed to destroy those who would exploit its abilities . . . it would no longer be a memory. Zero would live again.

* * *

_Chapter Song - Someday, by Nickleback_

* * *

**Ghost Whisper**: -Pants- Did you ever run up an enormously steep and long hill, only to realize when you've reached the top that you have no clue where you are? That you don't know which way is down? Now apply that to writing, and you've got my situation with one of the scenes in this chapter. I wrote it . . . and rewrote it . . . and replanned it . . . and rewrote it again . . .Well, I think you get the picture.

Next Chapter: Duo makes an important appearance! -listens to cheers from audience- What, you think I forgot him? 0.0


	6. Chapter 6: Initial Descent

**Ghost Whisper**: Ummm. sorry? I suppose it's irritating to have to wait so long - but I have a good excuse! I do! whips out prompt cards I- uh - came down with a tropical disease! .. No.that's no good. My dog ate my computer! . Neon sign lights up Ghost is lazy Yep. That works. ; 

Thanks goes out once again, to all reviewers, and my beta reader Night- Mare!

* * *

**Chapter 6: Initial Descent**

_How could they do this? They don't. they don't understand! After all he's done for them - All the effort that he put in to improving their lives. He built the colony! Their lives would be nothing without him! How could they turn against him like this? And to turn against him for OZ - idiots! Don't they realize that they're being walked all over?_

_"It's for the protection of the colonies. The Gundam Pilots are nothing more then terrorists - who knows who they'll decide to come after next?" Are those words all it takes to counter years of service and pacifism?_

_Parroting the words of politicians for their own gain, because they're too frightened to stand up and fight for their own freedom! How could they turn against you father? How could they, after all you've done for them? They made you die . . . They made Iria die. But I'll make them pay!_

_Zero will allow me to show them how stupid they are! I'll be able to show OZ that they can't win so easy. I won't let them win so easily! If they will have the blood of innocents, then it will cost them - And if the colonies help them, then they are the enemy too! They will not stand in my way. I will not let them forget what they've done._

_It is too late for them now - too late for questions, and for apologies._

_Zero System Voice Log - May 2 AC 195_

* * *

"Have any of the subjects shown positive results yet, Pirare?" The man behind the desk leaned forward into the large piece of furniture. It was stained darkly, with sharp corners and a thick heavy design that gave the entire office an imposing air akin to the man who owned it. The director's steel colored eyes glittered coldly under bushy black eyebrows, and his assistant flinched.

"There are a few positive - sir" the younger man floundered, twisting his hands nervously. "But so far, none strong enough to be applicable. Those that hold the power are not sequenced properly. Their brainwave pattern clashes with those from Eris."

"A few 'almosts' are not good enough!" The bearded man growled in frustration, slamming his hands down on the desk with a loud smack that caused his assistant to twitch. "You told me that you and your colleagues had found a way of tracing the proper subjects."

"We - we do, but-"

"But? I am getting tired off your excuses, Pirare. Either you have the subjects or you don't. This project is time sensitive, if you hadn't remembered. Perhaps you are trying to stall? I had thought that we'd managed to filter out all spies."

The smaller man became even more nervous. He adjusted thin wire framed glasses to sit straight on the bridge of his nose, and wiped away some of the heavy sweat that had broken out on his forehead. "Of - of course not sir! But, the process can only locate those who have potential - not those with the abilities most suited to our needs." He pulled out a sheaf of papers from within his coat. "We weren't even sure what those needs were at first, though I'm happy to say that we have narrowed the possibilities down to only a few patterns."

"Is that supposed to be good news? What good does it do me to narrow the possibilities without a person to test out Eris? We have the system! It is only scientists like you, who are too caught up within your little laboratories to think on the bigger scale, that are holding back our project!"

"I d-do apologize, Mr. Glast. There - there was one girl however."

"She would have been appropriate? Speak up, man!"

Pirare sighed, relieved at finally being able to get on to a topic where he had information that the director might find pleasing. "No, her pattern was slightly skewed - but we were able to draw some information from her in the course of testing. A member of her family apparently has the abilities we are seeking. And, since he was related, there was the possibility that his own activity pattern will be different from hers just enough to fit the prescribed criteria."

The director leaned back into his large leather chair, pleased at the good news, but still sceptical. "How do we know that his own pattern does not deviate further from what we need?"

"We've already checked him out, sir. We couldn't trace him before, due to some abnormal fluctuations, which could have been caused by anything from radio static, to the sun's magnetic field. The traces we've found indicate that he would be strong enough that Eris does not completely overwhelm him, and he does fit the other prerequisites." The assistant's eyebrow began to twitch excitedly, the prospect of the new subject distracting him from his prior anxiety.

"Send a team then, Pirare. You have wasted enough time trying to perfect your little machine. Now is the time for action! And don't forget who is funding this project." Glast smirked. "That could have. unfortunate consequences."

* * *

Light was streaming through his curtains in an amber wash, as it made its to his desk. The blonde's eyes flickered, and he turned his head in the opposite direction, trying to go back to sleep. After so many nights of sleeplessness, it felt as though he was a tightly coiled spring that had suddenly been given the chance to relax.

In spite of the odd feeling of peace that filled him, a yawn locked his throat up, and as he gave in to it, he became achingly aware of the irritating crick in his neck that came from sleeping with his head turned to the side on the unforgiving surface of his desk. He tried to ignore it at first, wanting to revel in the first decent sleep he had had in such a long time, but the nagging of his tense muscles brought him involuntarily back to awareness.

Quatre was laying face down, and arms that had once been under his head had been pushed forwards while he slept. Though it was not the most comfortable position, he had at least had enough sense to push the keyboard in front of him. It would have been very upsetting to wake up and see that he'd ruined all of his programming and calculations by using the keyboard as a pillow.

His calculations! Quatre shot up with a start, frantically calling up the work he'd left on his computer. He'd left it alone while he slept, allowing an ingenious program he'd found to sort out the finer details in the early hours of the morning. The blond gave a small sigh of relief as he realized that all was in order.

Everything was nearly finished. The major reprogramming that he'd had to put into his computer had been exhausting and time consuming, but it was finally nearing completion. He had, of course, needed to reformat the old processing system of Zero in order for it to function. Without doing so, his own mind would likely have been cluttered by memories and thought patterns carried by himself and other past users of the system during the war.

The blond shuddered. The idea that he would have had to relive his brief period of madness was horrifying, to say the least. Even more so, now that his empathy seemed to be gaining power, or at the very least, branching out in directions it never had before. Even imaging the tangled streams of hatred and terror running through him was enough to give him goose bumps.

He would have to relieve his father's death all over again, and that had only been the spark that set off the explosion. He may not have gotten along with his father, but he did care. Going through something like that again might break him. No one should have to witness the betrayal of people they grew up with. . . No one should have to see their father and sister killed because of it.

The negative emotions had been building up for too long. That had been the ultimate cause, as he knew now. In any wartime situation, being an empath would have been unpleasant. Being constantly surrounded by negative emotions like rage and stress had trained him to push the darker feelings aside. It was even worse when he had become the pilot of Sandrock, but until his colony's betrayal, it had been - just barely - manageable.

The destruction of the satellite with his father on board, and his sister's death to save him had been the final blow that resulted in his loss of control. Zero's blurring of his memories after that may have been merciful, but this didn't extend to the single most horrifying event he had witnessed. That explosion, and the look in Iria's eyes when she died continued to haunt him.

Quatre sighed and rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of the stinging of tears. 'A good night's sleep - even if it was on my desk - and what do I do first thing? I ruin it all with bad memories.' He sighed. That was neither here nor there now. The wiping of records from Zero would hopefully prevent the resurgence of old memories.

If he could master it.

There was always the possibility that he would break under the strain of interfacing with the machine. He would have to be calm and remain in control of the system as Heero had managed to during all the time that the Japanese pilot had used it in Wing. There was no room for error this time.

After all, if this new organization had found data from his project then it must have its own Zero system. Heero, for all he had used the system for months, and had been as successful -if not more so- at controlling it, was not its creator. He didn't know Zero down to its most basic programming the way Quatre did. The blond was the creator, and he would have to clean up his own 'mess'.

"Now. . . to give Zero a form. . ." he muttered quietly to himself, as he stretched his fingers and prepared to get back to work. He still had a little longer before he had to get to the Preventors' office and receive an update.

* * *

Duo was not one to brood on a regular basis. He left that sort of attitude up to Heero and Trowa. What else could they be doing when they could sit in one chair for hours on end while staring into space? There were, however, times when a particular event was important enough to quell the restless energy that continually ran through him, and allow him to - if not brood - at least think deeply on a topic. Although the braided pilot couldn't be certain, he had a feeling that now was one of those times.

He was lying on his bed, hands tucked behind his head as he attempted to fall back asleep. It wasn't like he could really sleep anyway, but still - didn't a guy deserve to have what little rest he could take? Especially since he had gotten up early for that shuttle to L1, and was already prepared to leave. It was just his luck that one of the time he was wide awake would be the time the Preventor agency decided to notify him of a two hour delay. Still, he hadn't slept very well in the first place. Such an important sounding mission, after several months of peace made him slightly nervous. One thing that the war had taught him was that bad things almost always decided to happen together.

He held up one hand and ticked off the information that he knew. "Let's see. Lots of people with apparently no connection being kidnapped," he folded his index finger in. "Creepy guy running some new group experimenting on people," down went his middle finger. "Recovered victim went insane and died," there went his thumb. "And OZ files that were supposed to have been destroyed, being recovered.

"Something is missing here." Duo pushed himself into a sitting position. He gave his braid a thoughtful tug, trying to figure out just what piece of information was tickling the back of his mind urgently. "Humph - leave it to me to try to find something even worse to worry about. I'm supposed to be the relaxed one for crying out loud!"

His watch began beeping insistently at him, reminding the ex-Gundam pilot that he had places to be and people to see. If he didn't get going soon, he would miss the shuttle he was supposed to catch - and he didn't want to put up with an annoyed 'Lady' Une, or even worse, a ranting Wufei, telling him how stupid he was to miss a flight that had been delayed in the first place.

"Guess that's my cue," he sighed, pulling on a slightly battered pair of black combat boots that had somehow managed to survive through many missions of sneaking through quiet corridors, halting kidnapping attempts, and gathering information in the less hospitable areas of town. Duo gave the boots a fond look. Heero would call him crazy for it, but they were almost a lucky charm for him. The only non-material thing he'd had for as long was his Gundam Deathscythe - and that had been destroyed a year ago.

The hall was mostly quiet when he exited his room, and he winced at the slight click that his door made as he shut it carefully. Chances were high that Heero was already up, researching something for the mission on his computer. 'I swear, that guy must never sleep,' he thought. 'He always seems to be up before everyone else - even when there's not a mission.' The others were probably still sleeping however, and he didn't want to wake them up. 'Especially Quatre. He probably needs it, after the awful sleep he must have gotten the other night.'

A door opened beside him, and Duo resisted the urge to flatten himself to the wall, and draw the gun that was holstered securely under his leather jacket in preparation for his trip to L1. 'Way too jumpy - gotta work on that.'

"Shouldn't you have left already?"

'It would be Wufei, who's already up,' he thought with a sigh, as he turned to face the dark haired ex-pilot. "Nah. I got a message saying the shuttle was delayed." He made a sour face. "And I was already up too. But you're up because . . ."

"I'm always up at this time, Maxwell. You would know that if you stopped sleeping in till noon everyday."

Duo pouted at the biting comment and placed a hand over his heart as though stricken. "Aww! You know I'm a busy guy, Wufei! I don't have time to sit around for hours thinking like you do - can you blame a guy if he wants to take what R&R he can?"

"It's meditation - as if you didn't know. And while we're on the subject, why are you up so early?" The Chinese pilot regarded him with a level expression as he leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. He barely even looked irritated, which was rather surprising to Duo, as Wufei had the hottest temper of all the pilots - especially when it came to Duo.

At the query, Duo threw off his playful attitude as he was reminded once more of the business he had. "I'm headed to L1. Apparently at least one of the people who disappeared was living there, and they want me to do a little research - scope out the territory and all. Routine business."

"If it's so routine, then why are they sending an ex-Gundam pilot?"

Duo grinned. "I'm afraid I can't tell you that - classified mission and all that!" Wufei's scowl caused him to quickly jog down the hallway away from any physical repercussions that he might incur.

* * *

_Chapter Song - Unknown, by Lifehouse_

* * *

**Ghost Whisper**: Here it is! Big, enormous, Gundam-sized thank-yous go out to all my reviewers: Kodomo Hikari, Night-Mare-Chan, Jaid Skywalker, Misanagi, dark vampire, xXxrachiexXx, Mainstream Sovereign, Minako 9, and dodgem (I think your review is the longest I've ever received! )

Diploma Exams (big government run finals) were Hell, and I had a Biathlon meet, so I was really busy, but your encouragement keeps me writing. Thanks!

Also - Ghost had her birthday on Thursday! Yay me! This can be my belated birthday present to you all - I hope it doesn't disappoint. Stay tuned, cause the next few chapters are gonna have things start to heat up!


	7. Chapter 7: Distance Between Friends

**Ghost Whisper**: Ehh... Due to computer problems I was blocked from for over a week! Cries Sorry the update took so long, but although I love writing, reading tends to be my life. Hehehe...On the bright side, this chapter is a bit longer than usual – and definitely longer than I expected. Duo took the story and ran away with it.

Thanks to: xXxrachiexXx (thanks for the vote of confidence!)

Starcat1 (I plan on continuing )

dodgem (o.o another long review- thanks!)

tatsumaki (Yeah, I love empathic!Quatre.)

Misanagi (I'm glad you liked the chapter, and I understand wanting more pokes favorite authors but I don't want to overreach myself, and then kick myself later because I don't like what I've written though that happens anyways )

Sakura30 (You thought it was brilliant? I'll have to put the coupon to good use!)

Minako 9 (So you think you know what going to happen? Shh! Don't tell anyone! )

Haruka Hana (Sorry it took so long – and thanks for the review! Hopefully there aren't any major problems here )

And a cuddly Quatre plushy to my beta reader NightMare, who fixes the curse of typo, bad characterization, and plot abysses (a more severe breed of plot hole).

* * *

**Chapter 7: Distance Between Friends**

_Dear Journal,_

_Father gave me you as a gift today. Normally I would have loved to get this sort of thing as a gift. But then, he said I could use it to practice my writing skills. That keeps bothering me. Does he think I'm doing poorly in my schoolwork? I try my best, and my tutors all say I'm doing great. They're supposed to be better teachers then in normal school, so doesn't that mean something?_

_I like being able to have something to write my thoughts in though. Sometimes, I think I might scream if I weren't able to. Even before I learned to write, I pretended to do it in my head, so that I could think my thoughts, and get rid of them. And of course, so I could get rid of some of those excess ones that I can't seem to block out. Writing seems to help. It's one of the only things that does._

_I've decided to start writing down my dreams too, because they don't want to go away otherwise. They're just like the extra feelings. Sometimes I wonder if they're really mine, or if they are borrowed. So I put them in my journal, and then I can forget them. I wish I could forget them easier, though._

_Last night I dreamed of a big man. He had a funny moustache – one that was thin and pointy – and he was shouting at me. Then he was grinning, and putting these round little rubber circles on my head. The kind that I see on those shows my older sisters watch, with all the doctors, and girls going on dates and getting amnesia. But this was scary, because I couldn't move in the dream, and I had this creepy feeling that he wanted to study me, like you do with frogs to see what their insides are like._

_I told Selene about the dream in the morning. She always makes me feel better when I have bad dreams. But this time, she just hugged me really hard, and said not to worry about it. That it had been taken care of. It was a little odd, even for her – though that time she decorated her room entirely in black was worse. Maybe being strange is a sister thing?_

_I didn't expect such a reaction though. She acted like the man was real. But I don't know him. At least, I don't think I know him._

_Selene is calling me now. My tutor is here, so I have to go._

_Quatre's Journal – October 4th AC 189_

* * *

Quatre entered the kitchen wordlessly, studiously ignoring Trowa's furtive glances from behind his curtain of brown hair. As he crossed to the stove to boil water for tea, he smiled at Heero and Wufei. It felt a little forced when he turned the expression on Trowa, but he was sure that no one had noticed the slight blankness of emotion that had flashed across his gaze for a moment. With his back turned, he was also able to hide the pained look that resulted from the slight throbbing in his temples, which had begun as soon as he entered the room. 

"Everyone's up so early today. I guess I'm the only one who slept in," he commented brightly, pulling out a plain white mug, and dropping a tea bag in it. "Unless Duo...?"

"Maxwell should be away for at least a day," Wufei answered the unfinished question. "He left early this morning for L1. He said it had something to do with the missing people we were briefed on at yesterday's meeting, but he was irritatingly smug about it being confidential."

Quatre raised an eyebrow curiously. "That's interesting. Not only are they sending out one of their best agents, but he's being told to keep it secret from us, as well as the rest of the Preventors. The others I can understand, but it doesn't make much sense to have us keep secrets from each other."

"A wise commander allows his men to balance their strength's and weaknesses?" Wufei commented, flicking a quick glance at Trowa and Heero, who were oddly silent during the exchange, but his gaze was focused back on Quatre before the blond was certain it had even happened.

"I wouldn't have put it so poetically myself, but yes. Is it safe to assume that we all have assignments we're not allowed to mention then?"

Wufei snorted quietly into his coffee cup, at the not so subtle remark. "I'm quite certain that I've been told not to reveal the details of my investigations at the L5 colonies." He replied dryly.

Quatre gave a small smile at the sarcasm, and turned a questioning glance at Heero and Trowa. 'Much as I'm a little uncomfortable talking to Trowa right now – and I'm sure the feeling must be mutual – if one of them doesn't say something soon, Wufei's going to start asking questions. He's not stupid.'

"I haven't heard anything yet myself, but Une has called me into the office today for a meeting." He grabbed a chair with the hand that wasn't carrying his mug of tea, and pulled out a chair. "So, Heero...Trowa; do you two have anything planned for today?"

Heero frowned into his coffee. "I do."

'How predictable,' Quatre thought. 'I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything different – especially when we've been ordered not to speak of what's going on.' He sighed and turned towards Trowa, steeling himself before looking into his friends green eyes. He was not expecting what came next.

_Suspicion... Guilt Uncertainty Frustration Betrayal_

Aquamarine eyes widened at the unexpected wave of emotion from the one who normally sealed off his emotions more then Heero. One hand, lying unnoticed in his lap under the table, clenched into a tight fist. 'I should have told him.' He thought sadly. 'Trowa, at least, would have understood about the amnesia...'

"Have you been assigned a job, Trowa?" He was proud that his voice didn't shake when he voiced the question. For a moment, the two shared a glance; Quatre's eyes silently asking forgiveness, and understanding, while Trowa's were almost blank, reflecting back the barest glimmer of worry, and the suspicion that had nearly overwhelmed him at first.

"I have," was the short answer. "Until more information is received, I can't carry it out however."

A slight tightening at the corners of his eyes was all the sign Quatre gave of his discomfort. He nodded politely in Trowa's direction. "I won't press you then. I do hope you won't hesitate to let me know if you need help of any kind." A slow nod answered him.

Quatre sighed, leaning back into the kitchen chair and sipping on his cooling tea. 'Something is going to have to be done about this situation,' he told himself, risking a quick glance at Trowa and Heero. The silence between the two was almost conspiratorial. Suspicion was rolling off the Japanese pilot, as well as Trowa. Even Wufei had a feeling of doubt about him. 'I need to tell them something – anything – or I have to figure out why my empathy is growing stronger, and how to improve my shields.'

The blond frowned as he realized his tea had taken on a slightly bitter taste. As distracted as he'd been, he had forgotten to take the tea bag out. The extra strength of his drink was not doing anything to help the twinges of pain from his headache.

* * *

'Hmmm...jello, and streamers... some tweezers would be great –oh! And I definitely can't forget the hair dye. Purple maybe? No – I think green would work better. Bright lime green...' Duo smirked, his face turned to the ground and hidden by shaggy brown bangs that obscured the expression of vengeful glee there. His movements could have been mistaken for predatory, if it hadn't been for the bounce to his step that caused the thick braid trailing down his back to sway and thump against him.

'Yes, I do believe Une deserves a talking to. No one should be given he dirtiest, hardest missions every single time.' He reached up to absently scratch his nose as he contemplated the commander of the Preventors' motives. 'Maybe she hates me?' At this thought, he paused his steps to look into the smudged window of a men's clothing store. Winking at his reflection in the glass, he shook his head and continued walking. 'Nah... What's not to like?'

Duo rounded another corner, all the while watching several pedestrians as they walked down the street. This sort of wariness was, like his quiet movements, a habit that he'd held on since the end of the wars. Each person that came within his vision was carefully assessed for a possible threat, and measured for any abilities he should be careful of.

Anyone he walked by was a potential Oz soldier in disguise, waiting for a slip up on his part, so he could be captured. At least, that was how things had been. He still couldn't shake the urge to keep track of the people around him however.

'They're all Asian,' he noted casually. On either side of him, most of the stores presented signs advertising their wares, written in kanji and kana. Adding the way most groceries had their food outside, and this entire section of the colony was reminiscent of a street from any city in Japan. Even the obvious traces of 'Western' culture made it clear that the colony cluster of L1 was largely populated by those of Japanese ancestry. The English words places on various signs were enough to make Duo chuckle at the abuse to his native tongue.

"I don't know why I was sent here in stead of Heero," Duo muttered to himself, drawing a curious glance from an old lady weighed down by a bag of vegetables. "He's the one who actually knows Japanese – though Wufei could probably hold his own. I don't know much except for 'baka', and calling everyone I meet an idiot isn't exactly gonna help me find the info I want".

As he turned another corner, Duo checked the street name and heaved a small sigh of relief. His destination was on this road, so at least he didn't have to walk much further. Not only did his eyes burn from a shorter amount of sleep than he was used to, due to the earl – but delayed – flight, but the administrators couldn't even arrange a rental car of some sort for him. Preventors' arranged transport was definitely lacking.

"What was that saying about military intelligence?" he grumbled. "Oh yeah! There is none!" Granted, the Preventors weren't exactly military, he thought, trying to be charitable. Although Lady Une was an ex-Oz colonel... Had her commander, Treize been like that? Duo snickered, imagining the aristocratic leader of Oz running around like a chicken with his head cut off.

He stopped walking at an old-fashioned looking brick building. Looming above him like a disapproving grandparent was his destination. According to the bronze plate next to the entrance, it was St. Albert's Highschool, founded in AC 178. The school's Western style – not to mention the fact that it ran an English program – was something Duo was grateful for.

Upon entering the school, he headed immediately for the front desk, where a secretary with close-cropped blond hair was tapping at the keyboard of a computer at a pace that rivalled Heero's. He knocked on the counter dividing the hallway and the office to catch the secretary's attention, and threw a winning smile in her direction when she looked up.

"One minute please," she told him, raising an eyebrow slightly at his expression.

'Sheesh... talk about conservative,' he thought with a mental snort, seeing her reaction to his cheer, and the disapproving stare at his long braid. 'I guess that's what you get when you go to a Catholic school – or maybe it's just this one' His thoughts trailed off wistfully to Sister Helen and Father Maxwell. Though they'd run a church orphanage, the two had been nothing, if not accepting of his little quirks.

Duo reached up behind his back, tugging gently tip of his braid as he watched the secretary finish typing up her memo, or report, or whatever it was that had her so focused on the computer screen. He tapped his foot impatiently. She erased something and retyped it. He placed an elbow on the counter and rested his chin in his hand. She printed a page out. He sighed and doodled imaginary designs on the counter-top. Those white lines almost formed a picture of a scythe... The secretary highlighted something on the page and chewed on her pencil.

After another minute of valiantly trying to restrain himself, Duo let out an explosive sigh of frustration. "Look, M'am ", he growled with false politeness through clenched teeth. "Whether or not I look the part, I have an appointment as of five minutes ago with your principal. I'm sure you want to get rid of me, so why don't you just tell him that I'm here, okay?"

The secretary gave him a dirty look, then wordlessly got up and walked to the door that separated the principal's office from the main office. Almost immediately, the Principal came out, giving a flustered smile. "Ah – Mr. Maxwell, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting so long." He shot a look at the chagrined secretary, and hustled her back to her desk. "Why don't you come into my office, and we can talk in private?"

"Right." Duo smiled and entered the room, seating himself in a stiff looking, but comfortable, red chair. The office was decorated plainly in the style that all principals seem to favour, with wooden panelling, and various framed pictures and certificates placed at strategic points about the room.

"I assume you have identification with you?" The principal asked as he sat down. "In a case such as this, I'm sure you can agree that it's only appropriate..."

"Sure thing," Duo said cheerfully, reaching into his back pocket and extracting a well worn, but good quality wallet. He flipped it open quickly, allowing the man to see his preventors ID. "Photo and everything. Now that that's settled, I'd like you to tell me everything you can a student named Hourousha Hitomi."

The principal bit his lip, looking thoughtful for a moment, before getting up to pull a folder out of a sturdy looking filing cabinet. "There's not much of importance to tell you, Mr. Maxwell," he said regretfully, pulling out a few papers from the folder. "You know that she disappeared about a week ago?" At Duo's nod, he continued. "Hourousha was a quiet student – and by quiet, I mean mostly unnoticeable. She wasn't one of the more popular students in the school, if only because she never put herself forward for anything."

"So she was a loner then? Or did she hang around with a different sort of crowd." The ex-Gundam pilot leaned forward in his chair, picking up one of the sheet spread across the desk, and examining it. It was a report card. Average grades stood out from the paper in bold block capitals.

"She didn't hang out with any sort of crowd," The older man explained. "If it hadn't been for the fact that her attendance record was perfect, it would have taken days to realize she'd gone missing, merely because there was no one to note her absence." He frowned and folded his hands on the desk.

Duo sighed internally as he listened to the principal's words, and sorted through the unfortunate girl's records. "There's nothing else you can tell me then? Nothing unusual?" The uncomfortable look he received at the last comment told him what he needed to know, and Duo leaned forward, subtly pressing any advantage he had to get the information.

"Well..."

* * *

The office was busy, in a rather quiet way that could only be achieved by many low voices and keyboards being tapped on at the same time. It filled the room with a constant hum of white noise that Quatre ignored as he made his way over to the wooden door and frosted glass window that separated Une's office from the rest of the room.

Two sharp knocks in quick succession, and he was being ushered into the office by Une, who pressed a sheaf of papers into the hands of her secretary before hastily urging the confused woman out of the room.

"You said you wanted to see me?" he asked.

The woman nodded and sat back down behind her desk. "Of course. Sit down, Quatre." She gestured to a comfortable looking leather chair opposite her, and Quatre took a seat, folding his hands in his lap.

"Is this about the new group that was mentioned yesterday?" he tilted his head to the side questioningly. "Since you're assigning your best operatives, and I haven't received a task yet..."

Une nodded. "The organization Eris is the reason you were called here today." Here she paused, choosing her words carefully. "However, I'm not assigning you a mission at this point in time."

Quatre sat up in his chair quickly. "Why not?"

"We have the identification of one of the newest kidnapping victims..."

"And?" Quatre asked. Though he knew the ex-Oz colonel was fully experienced as a diplomat, he was getting tired of her beating around the bush.

"Her name was Melody Winner – One of your sisters I believe."

The blond froze. "How – that – I always make sure they have the best protection available!" Quatre finally managed, have rising out of his seat. "There's no way... How did this happen?" He ran a shaking hand through messy bangs.

Une regarded him sympathetically, a frown pulling down the corners of her mouth. "We still don't know all of the details. Whoever's behind Eris, they have some very good connections. The people who took Ms. Winner didn't leave any concrete traces. Even after a week of searching, it's still mostly shadow trails."

"Professionals," Quatre murmured. He gazed worriedly down at the desk, when something he'd just heard clicked. "Wait – A Week!" Glaring at Une, aqua blue eyes turned glacial. "You waited a week to tell me my sister was missing? Why? Any why wouldn't the police -?"

"We interrupted the case," she replied calmly, slipping back into her military persona. "It was classified as soon as it was connected to Eris, and as such, we had to wait until it was deemed suitable-"

Quatre gripped the edge of the desk tightly. His nerves were dangerously close to breaking, and his thin, patchwork shields beginning to erode under the pressure of containing his own emotions. Something within him felt as though it were tearing completely in half, and his eyes glazed over. All at once he felt as though he was expanding, filling up every corner of the room... of the entire office...

_Worry!__Was he going to be court marshalled for such a small mistake? He hadn't been here for long – and he couldn't lose his job...  
_  
_Anger!_ _Who did that man think he was, acting all superior? Why did they have to be stuck together as partners of all things?  
_  
_Happiness!_ _Thank goodness he got tomorrow off. He'd be able to catch up with his wife and daughter finally...  
_  
_Irritation Resignation Contentment Tiredness Frustration_

Furiously, Quatre blinked his eyes, coming back to himself. It seemed as though an hour had passed, but Une had yet to finish her earlier sentence.

"Suitable," he repeated, his tone frosty; channelling his own anger, as well as bits and pieces of it that had come from somewhere else. "This isn't wartime anymore, and you can't pass her off as an 'acceptable loss' Commander."

Une locked a stern gaze on him. "At this time Winner, you're being removed from the case." The blond tried to interrupt her, but she carried on, overruling his objections. "This kind of emotional outburst is exactly the kind of response we cannot have in our agents. I understand your anger, but -"

Quatre felt his hands beginning to tremble, and tightened them further around the resisting wood of the desk. "I have a right to know when my family is in danger." He cut in. "I may be a Preventor, but a good deal of money from the Winner Corporation is backing this department. I don't care that you may have been designated my superior. I can, and will act on my own if I need to." With that, he stalked out of the office.

* * *

"...The target has left the building, and is within sighting range." The man whispered into a tiny microphone attached to the collar of his black sweater. Adjusting his grip on the rifle, he loaded a tiny dart into the chamber.

"Wait till he crosses the designated area – then shoot him."

* * *

_Chapter Song - Elsewhere, by Sarah Mclachlan_

* * *

**Ghost Whisper**: I'm evil. First I take a long time to update - cringes. I know! I'm terribly terribly sorry! and then I leave you with an evil cliffie. Mwaa haa haaa! It can't be helped I'm afraid. I will try to update sooner now – but I can't guarantee anything. Rest assured however, that this fic WILL be finished, and I'm also gearing up for a sequel. 


	8. Chapter 8: A Part of Me

**Ghost Whisper**: See! I can write quickly! -Mumbles about stupid project deadlines- The majority of this chapter was written in one day! Granted, It was a ten hour day or so, but... Anyways, I hope you all enjoy! It's around twice as long as a normal chapter!

This chapter is now BETA'd! Some minor adjustments have been made, and the story notes have been moved to the epilogue/prologue chapter. Please note that I am continuing it as a single story, and making another 'part' like in some books. The epilogue is just to bridge the gap between chapter.

I'll leave you with this chapter and the epilogue, as I will be gone until mid August, staffing a Cadet camp in Ontario. I'll have very little computer access. (cries). However, I will be working on the next chapter over the summer, and have nearly a whole chapter ready that I can post when I get back. :D

**Warnings**: Beware potential confusion, implications of violence, insanity, death, and destruction. Nothing graphic. Major plot twists ahead! (In my defence, I do think it makes sense, but probably only after the fact. :D ) And...the chapter that looks like it's skipping back and forth between scenes? Yeah – I meant to do that. :P 

Thanks to all my readers, and especially to NightMare, my beta-reader:D

* * *

**Chapter 8: A Part of Me**

* * *

_The dreams have been worse lately._

_Ever since I left home to fight in the war, I've been having them. It's always an indistinct figure, sometimes of one who protects me, and sometimes of one who attacks me. I can never decide which is worse. Do I hate the ones where I am attacked? I should, but those are so predictable. As a Gundam pilot I've been trained to deal with attacks. That's not to say it's easier when the dream feels like reality, but even then, some measure of my conscience is able to respond._

_It feels illogical of me, but I almost dislike the ones where I am protected even more than the ones where I'm attacked. I'm never sure whether the two figures are the same or not. Do you understand my dislike now? Am I being held, and reassured by someone who is only going to betray me the next moment?_

_I wish I could get rid of the dreams._

_They started when Heero and I arrived at Sanc. After Trowa was... well I won't go into that. I know perfectly well what happened, and it's not a memory I want to make more vivid by putting in a journal. I'll remember it well enough as it is. Suffice it to say that after everything calmed down somewhat, things began to blur. I'm not so afraid as I used to be._

_It could be because I've increased my shields so much. Less seems to leak through now. I don't feel so much of the anger and hatred around me, or so much of the fear, and greed. It all gets shunted off to...wherever it goes after being reflected off my shields._

_Maybe it's only weaker because I'm in a pacifist kingdom, where the war is held to the borders._

_The only negative side effect to speak of is the dreams. Well...that and the odd black out. Those have pretty much stopped now though, ever since my memories of the... incident...began to blur. I don't like having forgotten, but – I can't help but think it's for the best. I'm glad I don't have to remember anymore._

_I can't tell Heero, though. He'll think I'm a danger to the mission – and if nothing else, I have to continue fighting in this war for Trowa's sake. He would have wanted it to end._

* * *

The blonde haired youth was strapped down to the hard, rather uncomfortable looking bed. Had he been awake, he would have just as soon classified it as an embellished operating table for a surgeon, or the type of bed used in a hospital for the most dangerous of patients. Leather straps that were bolted to the sides and being used to hold him in place only increased the illusion of being in a mental hospital – which in a twisted way, he was. Pale and unconscious, he seemed too fragile for the measures taken to keep him restrained. 

A tall black-bearded man walked over to the side of the bed, and fingered the leather of the cuffs. "I take it he's still unconscious?" he inquired, examining the youth. Leaning forward, he took the 'patient's' pulse on the major artery at his throat, and checked under the boy's eyelids.

"Yes sir," his assistant replied, running his eyes quickly over a data sheet on a nearby table. "There don't seem to have been any adverse effects from the drug we used when bringing him here, but we didn't expect him to be so... small. Most seventeen year olds have gotten their major growth spurt by that age, and are full sized adults."

"There isn't anything wrong with him physically, is there?" the bearded scientist asked sharply, looking frustrated. "I would rather not have to dispose of our first true Potential, and find another. Things have taken far too long for my tastes as it is." One hand reached out to touch a lock of the messy platinum bangs that fell across the youth's forehead in all directions and extended down to brush the pale skin of his cheeks. "And it would be such a pity. He is the only specimen so far that has matched all of our selection criteria. It was a stroke of luck to find him."

The junior scientist shook his head. "We don't think don't think his stature will affect him at all in the long run, sir. You know of the difficulties in reproduction that were passed down from the first colonists on L4. Evidence suggests that his frail appearance is due to being one of the earlier live births on the L4 colony. The boy's records were, of course, confidential, but we were able to access med. Reports which state that his mother died after his birth due to complications. That may account for his size. In any case, physically he is in excellent condition – better than normal, actually, and at a level that almost suggests genetic tampering."

The bearded man smiled coldly. "Well. It appears that Mr. Winner has a few secrets of his own. We've gotten lucky with this one. I believe he will suit his purpose better than we had originally planned." He turned to walk out the door, but stopped before exiting the room. "Let me know when he wakes up. I want to be there for the initial testing."

"Yes sir," his subordinate said, nodding in recognition.

* * *

"Well... you will try and keep this away from the press, won't you?" At Duo's nod, the Principal continued. "Thank you. The information could be important – though I don't really see how – but we have a policy of protecting our students from invasion of privacy." He paused for a moment, and seeing an encouraging look from Duo, began speaking. "Hourousha has a history of... odd incidents surrounding her" 

The braided Preventor fought to keep an eyebrow from rising at that vague statement. "When you say odd, do you mean 'ooh she's a Goth girl' odd, or 'ooh she's trying to take over the world' odd."

The principal shook his head. "I mean 'the teacher went flying through the window with no one around' odd. Or sometimes 'all the basketballs in the gym are attacking the cheerleaders' odd. We try to keep it off record, because there's really no way to explain it. One of the cheerleaders from a well-off family tried taking it to the police, and she got laughed off and sent to a councillor because of it."

Duo nodded slowly taking in the information. He had a nagging about what it could mean, but couldn't take action there at the school. "Anything else you can tell me?"

"I'm afraid not."

"I'll let you get back to your work then," Duo said, standing up and stretching. "I'll make sure you're contacted if we find your missing student." The principal looked relieved as he stood up also and shook Duo's hand.

"I hope that I was some help to you, Agent Maxwell." Duo nodded and left the office, somewhat preoccupied with what he had learned. He didn't even notice the dirty look that the secretary sent his way as he passed her.

'Odd incidents...' Duo mused as he walked down the hallway and out of the school minutes later. 'Something about that bugs me.' Une said that Eris was experimenting in brainwashing stuff... It's a long shot, and I probably don't have enough evidence to back it up, but – what if those 'incidents' are connected to the kidnappings?' He frowned. 'I can think of one person who has 'incidents' like that... I still remember what happened to Quatre after Heero self-destructed...' Following his hunch, Duo quickly made his way to a pay phone.

"Come one...pick up!" Glaring at the numbers on the phone, he tapped his foot impatiently, hoping that at least one person was home.

No such luck.

Frustrated, Duo dialled the number for the Preventor's office, punching at the numbers hard. Wufei should be at the office. Wasn't he supposed to be getting briefed on his mission to L5 that afternoon?

"Hello, Preventor's office. May I help you?" In his mind, Duo cursed the power that had seen fit to make secretaries all the same. The woman's bland tone was little better than the one he had received earlier at the school.

"Put me on to Preventor Chang."

* * *

_"... No son of mine is going to fight in the war! The Winner family has always held pacifistic ideals Quatre – you know that! I don't understand how you could betray your family in such a manner!" Mr. Winner's face purpled in outrage. "Are you listening to me? There will be no more talk of this nonsense!" Something felt obscurely wrong Quatre decided, as he listened to his father berate him for his decision. Perhaps it was the silence that filled the house, which before had always been filled with the small clattering sounds of maids working, and his, few remaining sisters who lived there. _

"Father, I -" The source of Quatre's unease appeared then, preventing any further defence of his case for fighting as a Gundam Pilot. A twin, identical to himself from the pale blond hair, to the fragile build was walking up behind his oblivious father. The only detail setting the two apart was the frightening gleam in the eyes of the other.

With a smirk, and a sadistic grin, his double thrust an arm out, catching his father in the stomach. At the violent action, Mr. Winner doubled over and wheezed out his breath, turning a shocked gaze downward to the hand that had attacked him. His lips opened and shut silently over and over, until the other him gave a disgusted look and threw the older man into a wall where he faded away.

Quatre watched in shock as his double grinned with an unholy sort of glee, and then began to chuckle. It was an odd choking sort of noise, which Quatre almost failed to recognize as laughter before his twin turned away and walked out of the room. He only hesitated a moment before running out after him into the hallway, terrified of what might happen if this monster remained on the loosed in his home.

_To his dismay, the hallway was completely empty. "That shouldn't be possible," he murmured quietly into the stillness. "He was just here, and all he doors are too far apart for him to have reached another room already." He looked around in confusion, trying to figure out where his double could have went that he had managed to exit the hallway so quickly. _

The quiet groaning of door hinges on his right alerted Quatre to the presence of another person. Sure that it would be his mirror image, he turned so fast that he heard several vertebrae in his neck crack. The face that confronted him however, was not his own. It was Instructor H.

_Quatre's mind went blank at the sight of his old teacher, and the man who had made him a soldier – a killer. Before he could think of a suitable response, the scientist moved forward with preternatural speed to hold Quatre's arms at his sides in a crushing grip. Though he kicked and struggled and shouted as loud and as hard as he could, the blonde was unable to escape from the larger man. _

At last out of breath, he let himself go limp, hoping that his captor would think he had given up, and go off his guard. The grip around his arms was not loosened at all however, and Quatre dared to raise his head and look into the eyes of the man he had come to loathe.

_Instructor H's entire persona seemed to change right in front of him. It was as though he had once again adopted the kind persona he'd held when Quatre first remembered meeting him. Then it was all ruined by a sneer. The overweight man's body began to shrink, contracting in upon itself, though not losing the strength of its grip. His face thinned out, and the moustache vanished. Hair changed, and muddy brown eyes bled away into crystalline blue. Quatre was looking at his own face. _

His twin opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it abruptly, as though deciding not to break the silence, which had settled around them. The sneer on his face remained, but for a second it seemed as though something akin to understanding had crossed his face. Then he did something that shocked Quatre to the core.

_Leaning forward, Quatre's double bent his head until their two foreheads were pressed together. An icy tingle ran down Quatre's spine that felt like 'someone walking across his grave'. With the cold shiver, the visage of his other began to melt and slide onto him – into him! _

Quatre couldn't breathe. It was as though they were merging, and he couldn't...!

_

* * *

_

"So you're awake." 

Quatre looked upwards with foggy eyes at the man in a white lab coat standing above him. The scientist was trying to appear cool and collected, but his eyebrow was twitching with excitement.

"You were out longer than we expected – but that is of no matter." The man waved at someone behind Quatre, and the blonde tilted his head backwards to catch sight of another person dressed the same way. "Andre, go get Mr. Glast – tell him the subject is awake."

"Subject?" he managed to cough out. "What -" he stopped abruptly seeing the irritated look the scientist was sending him.

"You don't need to talk. If you continue to do so with out permission, I have all the authority I need to gag you. Understand?" Quatre nodded dumbly, sending a narrow eyed glare at the other man as soon as he turned his back. The man bustled around busily for the next few minutes, and Quatre took the opportunity to examine his surroundings.

He had been strapped down to a bed that shared many characteristics with an operating table by way of thick leather straps, which might cut into his wrists if he took it into his head to struggle. The room itself was large and white, filled with computers and various monitors displaying information that he couldn't understand. On the far left side of the room, a metal chair had been set up with similar leather cuffs to the one being used on him. Above it, at the correct height for someone sitting in the chair, wires suspended two round pieces of metal for an unknown purpose.

In the midst of checking out his surroundings, Quatre had divided his attention, leaving some to examine the few scientists working in the room, and another part of his mind to begin developing an escape plan. He didn't get very far, before a heavy set bearded man walked into the room, satisfaction and greed radiating off of him. The man smirked at him as he closed the distance between the door and Quatre, and the blonde frowned. Was this the man in charge?

"As you can see, the subject is awake, Mr. Glast. Do you wish us to commence testing?" The scientist worked his hands together, looking expectantly at the man who was obviously his superior.

"Have you checked his wave patterns yet, Pirare?" Glast picked up a sheaf of papers from a nearby table and began examining them.

"Of course sir – pattern is green. We're all ready to connect him as soon as you give the go ahead."

"What wave patterns?" Quatre couldn't resist speaking up, even if it was only to annoy the man who had told him to be quiet. As it was, he also needed information. The scientist – Pirare – frowned at him, but Glast waved him off with a smirk in Quatre's direction.

"The ones in your brain," he answered, looking smug. "It's taken us quite some time to find a subject with brainwave patterns that match the criteria we were looking for. You should be happy to know of your uniqueness. After all – as we soon found out – subjects without a pattern that matched usually went mad – and sometimes even comatose."

The blonde's eyes widened at the implications of that statement, as all the facts seemed to fall into place. "Eris...You're Eris!"

Glast nodded in satisfaction. "I'm glad to find that the Preventors don't hire complete idiots to work for them – of course your brains won't help you in this case. Though I do look forward to seeing them work for me." He gestured, and two hulking men in sweaty dark green uniforms stepped forwards. Hired Muscle Number One pressed down hard on his shoulders, while the other placed a knee down on top of his legs and undid the leather cuffs.

"What did you do to my sister!" Quatre shouted, struggling against the grip of the men as they half-carried, half-dragged him towards the metal chair he had noticed earlier.

Glast looked thoughtful for a moment, watching as Quatre was forced into the chair, and strapped down once more. Pirare came forward when the blonde was deemed 'safe' and began fiddling with the small pieces of metal, which were stuck to his temples with an adhesive liquid. "Not that it's any concern of yours anymore," the director said, "But I've moved her to another lab. We know all about your abilities, and we wouldn't want you to be able to contact her, now would we?"

Quatre opened his mouth to reply, but stopped when a jolt of pain ran straight through his head. He folded in upon himself, sagging into the chair and biting back a cry, as his surroundings seemed to waver in and out of existence.

In the lab, a teenager stared straight ahead with blank aqua eyes.

* * *

_He was sitting in the middle of a huge bed, one, or many fuzzy blue blankets wrapping about him. Carefully, Quatre moved an arm, withdrawing it from the nest of soft warmth, and reaching up with it to push aside strands of his hair that were falling annoyingly into his eyes. His hand was caught fast by another, startling the blonde into looking up into his own eyes. _

"They're doing it again," his double said petulantly, turning his face to the side with a childish pout. "The bad men, with their monitors, and machines. The little tiny electrical currents running through our brain." He held up one hand, thumb and index finger pinched together, miming the size. "We don't like it – and it won't happen anymore!"

Quatre gazed forwards at the strange faces surrounding him. "So you like to study people?"

The younger man, who had bent forwards and was shining a small light into one of his eyes hurriedly, stepped back, stumbling slightly over a none existent bump in the white linoleum. A bearded man frowned turning to one of his colleagues. "Was this supposed to happen?" the man asked.

"I like studying people too." Quatre stated, throwing a piercing look at the scientist who he'd scared moments ago. The man screamed, huddling into a ball on the floor, and covering his ears at the same time as he tucked his head under his arms.

_"What are you doing?" _

The other frowned at his accusing tone. "We are stopping them," he explained with a shrug. "We don't like the tests. They are the ones foolish enough to force us to take action."

"Stop it!" Quatre lunged out of his blanket cocoon, falling hard onto the floor. He grunted as the wind whooshed out of his lungs "Get out of my body – get out of my mind!"

His twin frowned. "I'm not in your mind."

The room was in panic, scientists rushing back and forth; gathering as much data as they could, while Quatre sent a glare at the bearded man. "Let me go" the blond stated. Hesitantly, the man stepped forwards, and undid the cuffs holding him to the chair. Quatre ignored the others, his sight focussed solely on the two men who had been closest to him when he 'woke'.

_"You are not me," Quatre ground out, clenching his fists tightly at his sides. There was a stinging in his palms that told him he had broken the skin – a result of fingernails digging in. "I'm not like that." A smirk – condescending, arrogant, and oddly protective was his first answer, as the boy who looked like him stepped closer. _

Warm breath whispered against his cheek as the other leaned closer to him, reaching out a hand to brush away messy platinum hair. "But I am. I'm you – don't you remember? I've always been there for you – always protected you against those who hurt you, and those who are your enemies – as I will now."

"What-"

Quatre trailed his fingers across an array of blinking lights, and down a computer monitor. His fingers left small prints that he ignored. He was searching for something. The rest was unimportant.

"Where is the main CPU?" he asked. "Where is the one that connects them all?" The younger scientist he had sent into screaming fits turned around with glazed eyes, and pointed towards a grey and white monstrosity that dominated half of the left wall of the room. A satisfied grin tugged at the corners of the blonde's mouth as he drove a foot through one of the panels at knee height. There was a wonderful sizzling noise as many of the monitors in the room died into blackness.

Kicking it wasn't enough, though.

So Quatre got to work smashing at it with a fire extinguisher. He took care to hold onto the non-metal handle, so as to not be shocked by travelling electricity.

_"What are you?" Quatre whispered. _

His twin pushed him back from the embrace to arms length him an affectionate smile. The other him seemed to be slightly preoccupied as he answered. "I told you – I'm you – Mostly. I know you don't like to fight, so I'll protect you."

Quatre shuddered, a little fear leaking through as he heard his twin attest to their 'oneness'. "Just go away," he said, flinching.

_"It's okay to be frightened." His twin told him. "That only makes me protect you better. When your angry, or scared – or when you give that anger to me which isn't your own – I can protect you better. You don't need the anger. I can help you with it." _

"I don't want your help!"

"You need me..."

Quatre used the fire extinguisher one more time to hit the remains of the computer, and watched flames poor out of the decimated equipment. Giving the scene one look over his shoulder, he walked out of the lab.

Behind him was a large explosion.

* * *

"I haven't heard anything since Quatre stormed out of my office," Une began carefully. "He was upset that I took him off the mission due to...personal connections with one of the victims. I was hoping that he had contacted one of you." 

Trowa shook his head mutely, Heero and Wufei following suit.

"You mean to tell me none of you have talked to Quatre since this afternoon?" Duo's face glared at them at from the screen of Une's vid- phone. "And what the hell do you mean 'you took him off the mission'? Quatre's the best strategist we've got! You can't just pull him out of an important case like this!"

"Duo," Heero's patient voice cut the ranting teen off. "Calm down. It was a theoretically sound decision, given his connection to the case." He turned to the commander of the Preventors, who had a pained, but resolute look on her face. "Une, do you have any new information about Eris? If Quatre has disappeared, we need to find out whether he's been taken right away – he hold's information vital to Preventor's security."

"Look," Duo began, shaking his head. "You keep searching, and find him – and if you don't find him, then search some more! I'm on my way back right now – I better not get there to find out that Quatre's hurt, or worse." The screen went blank before anyone could protest.

"Well?" Wufei's statement cut through the silence almost painfully. "I, for one, agree with Maxwell. Winner does not deserve to end up...mentally incapacitated like the other victims you've found."

From behind his curtain of hair, Trowa was glowering. "He will be all right." He tensed up as he faced the other, daring him to imply further the potential tragedy of events.

"We don't have time for this," Heero began, shooting glares at his teammates. "We need to find out-"

At that moment, the phone rang, interrupting what looked like it was ready to become an argument. Waving the teens silent, Une lifted the phone off the receiver, leaving the vid-screen off to maintain privacy. "Yes?" A minute later her eyes darkened with concern, and a hint of relief. "Okay, one moment please." She pulled out a legal pad, and a pen, setting the latter to the paper. "Where? Thank you for letting us know. We'll have agents down there as soon as possible."

Turning to face the questioning gazes of the three young men; Une took a deep breath, preparing to tell them what the call had been about. "There's been a disturbance at a warehouse on colony L3-GP1538. We can get there in less then twenty minutes if you hurry."

Heero sent an abrupt nod to Trowa. "You call Duo and tell him," he said shortly.

* * *

It was like a scene drawn out of the worst nightmares of each of them... 

The destruction of the apartment building where the little girl and her dog lived.

The still burning remains of Maxwell church.

The cluttered battlefield, with the empty shells of mobile suits where comrades had been betrayed.

The debris floating in space where a colony had once been.

And in the middle of it, standing in front of the building, just far enough beyond it to remain safe from the flames, was Quatre.

Quatre with blank and empty eyes.

"Quat!" Duo's shout rang hollowly against the quiet murmur of flames that had yet to die down, and the shouts of firemen and police officers, as they struggled to contain the blaze, and the crowds that were forming around it. His braided friend pulled the blonde haired teen into a tight hug, but he seemed to barely notice it. "I thought – Damn, I wish this was one time my hunch was wrong! I thought I wouldn't make it in time!"

There was no answer...

...Until...

"Duo?" It was a weak whisper that could barely be heard, before Quatre passed out into his friend's arms.

* * *

_Chapter Song - Taste, by Lorna Vallings_

**

* * *

**

**Ghost Whisper**: We-ell... What do you think? Was it what you were expecting? I can tell you now that this –points at ending- was what I had planned all along. I'm curious to know if anyone caught any of the hints I made in the story – or at least if they can identify what those hints might have been. Let me know in a review? Pleeeeaaaseee! This author craves feedback on her pet project!


	9. Epilogue: Prologue?

**Epilogue: Prologue?**

The shadows were comfortable.

Quatre sighed, allowing himself to sink into the safety they offered. In intermittent patches, the comfort and silence broke up, allowing bits and pieces of sound to break through from somewhere that seemed terribly far away.

"...Safe?"

"...Now...the trauma...we don't..."

"-Right...was powers...newtype gene..."

"...Effect be...?"

He tried to ignore the sounds, and push himself deeper. Somehow, he knew that something was waiting for him when he woke up; something that he would rather not face.

"...wake up?"

"...n't know. Have to..."

No. For now he was safe. Perhaps later... but until then, he could almost imagine that he had someone holding him, like a mother holds her newborn child. And the further he drifted away from the waking world, the more he was sure he could hear someone whispering to him.

"I'll stay with you..."

* * *

**Ghost Whisper**: For those of you wondering, this 'epilogue' is called 'prologue?' because it's an intro into the next part of the story. I will be continuing it within the same story on however, and will lable it as Part 2 within the story. 

As I stated in the previous chapter, you can expect the next update between August 16th, and the end of August, as I have most of it written already. Stay tuned at the end of the story notes for a preiew! (wicked grin) Yes, I know I'm torturing you. XD

* * *

**Soundtrack**  
  
The following was a soundtrack to this story that I compiled, based on music I listened to while writing, or that I thought fit exceptionally well with the mood. I encourage all readers to get a hold of these songs if possible, as they are wonderful. 

Shadowed Tears Soundtrack

**Chapter 1: Shadow of Death**

Weathered – Creed

Splendour – Nanase Hikaru

The Successor – Nobuo Uematsu

Ruri's Heart – Nanase Hikaru

Just Communication – from the anime Gundam Wing

Full of Grace – Sarah McLachlan

**Chapter 2: Desperate to Forget  
**  
When I'm Gone – Three Doors Down

Passing Sorrow – Nobuo Uematsu

Iris – Goo Goo Dolls

Ancient Secret – Nanase Hikaru

Living Inside the Shell – Steve Conte

Solitude – Joe Hisaishi

**Chapter 3: Let Me In  
**  
Let Me In – Save Ferris

Terra In Black – Nobuo Uematsu

Duvet – BOA

Prelude – Nanase Hikaru

Rise – Yoko Kanno

Flame – from the Witch Hunter Robin soundtrack

**Chapter 4: Build Up Walls  
**  
Nothing Else Matters – Metallica

The Glorious Angel – Nanase Hikaru

Loss of Me – Nobuo Uematsu

Somewhere I belong – Linkin Park

Fallen – Sarah McLachlan

**Chapter 5: Outside the Bounds of Comrades  
**  
Someday – Nickelback

The Sound of Silence - Simon and Garfunkel

Kanashimi Iro no Sunadoke – From the Gundam Wing anime

Is It Real? – Yoko Kanno

Obsession – from the .hackExtra Soundtrack

**Chapter 6: Initial Descent  
**  
Unknown – Lifehouse

Kuja's Theme – Nobuo Uematsu

Peacekeeper – Fleetwood Mac

Shell – from the Witch Hunter Robin soundtrack

Last Impression – from the Endless Waltz

To Zanarkand – Nobuo Uematsu

**Chapter 7: Distance Between Friends  
**  
Elsewhere – Sarah McLachlan

Silent Sorrow – Nanase Hikaru

Himitsu – From the Anime Noir

Aeris' Theme – Nobuo Uematsu

Le Grande Retour – From the anime Noir

Numb – Linkin Park

**Chapter 8: A Part of Me**

Taste – Lorna Vallings

Dive Into the Heart – Yoko Shinomura

Velveteen – Yoko Kanno

Bring Me To Life – Evanescence

Figure 09 – Linkin Park

One Winged Angel – Nobuo Uematsu

**Epilogue: Prologue?**

Heaven's Not Enough – Yoko Kanno

Epitaph – From the anime Weiss Kreuz

What's It For – Emily Curtis

The Light Before We Land – The Delgados

Gravity – from the anime Wolf's Rain

* * *

**Story Notes:  
**  
**1** According to a Japanese/English translator site I consistently use, one of the possible translations for Hitomi is 'victim', or 'sacrifice'.

**2** About my version of 'Zero'...I think my Psychology course got to me. I was originally planning on a multiple personality thing for the story, then I scrapped the idea, because I thought it wouldn't fit. Then I decided to bring it back in, and it morphed to what you see now.

**3** The ending scene of this chapter was originally intended to be the ending scene of the story, with a sequel planned. It's been sitting in my head for months now. XD Now that I'm finished it, I'm a little confused as to whether I should end Shadowed Tears, and start the sequel, or whether I should continue it as the same story. Either way, it will continue into a new 'part'. I have the equivalent of the epilogue/prologue written, as well as another chapter. I would very much appreciate it if people commented on their preference. It will be taken into consideration.

**4** The other pilots will have large roles in subsequent stories/chapters. I haven't forgotten about them.

**5** Information regarding multiple personalities was used at various points in this fic, and will continue to be used. Source: 'Psychology And You', Second Edition: McMahon, J; McMahon, B; and Romano, T. Information on Japanese language comes from Jim Breen's WWW JDIC Dictionary (Monash University Site).

**6** Thanks to my reviewers!

**Stage:** You reviewed most of the chapters! O.o Thanks! It makes me so happy to know you thought the story was worthwhile enough for that!

**XXrachieXx:** One of my long-time reviewers! Great to see you! I'm a sad person too I guess. I've re-read some of my favourite stories over and over in the hopes it will make authors update sooner. I'm not sure if it works though...perhaps I'll try psychic manipulation next... :D I'm glad the scene with pissed off Quatre was good. I wanted him to be angry with good reason, and not bratty sounding. Luckily, I had inspiration - It was one of those 'get up in the middle of the night to write' things. I do that a lot...

**shadowofdragons:** Heh heh... I'm evil with cliffhangers aren't I? Looks up at end of current chapter. Eep! Don't kill me!

**Yo:** I hope this is fast enough?

**Long de Yunqi:** I think Duo is strange too :D Thanks for the review!

**Haruka Hana:** -Proudly display Evil Authoress' Guild badge- Does this update make up for the evil cliffy? It turned out so much longer than I was planning... but I wrote another evil cliffie. Gotta earn my keep in the Guild, you know. I'm glad you like the journal entry. It has important clues regarding Quatre's problems with Zero, which become more apparent in this chapter. And the cracking the computer scene? -rubs hands together maniacally- That is yet to come...

**Star's dreams:** You think it is amazing? -Blushes- Thank you!

**Minako 9:** So you picked up on some of the clues I dropped? I'm glad you did. I was worried that I was the only who could see them, just because I'd written the stories. Hopefully this chapter helps with those tenterhooks. :D

**Sakura30:** I hope I don't drive anyone too crazy...I don't think they have much in the way of computer access at Mental Institutions... XD

**Khinei:** Hmm...I'm not sure if I dragged it out enough. Were you expecting more Quatre torture? I do plan to have lots of angsty/drama/supernatural goodness in the sequel/later chapters. I'm thinking of putting at least one pairing into the story in the future, but I won't give it away. And I won't have romance take over the story if I do include a pairing – I don't think I'm good enough at writing it anyway. --;; This story is dedicated to all my reviewers, without whom it could never have existed; and to my Mom, who sat through many hours of discussion and ranting, encouraging me the entire time without ever knowing the plotline of Gundam Wing.

* * *

**Preview!**

_Zero is a number meaning non-existent. It is a system, created for battle, to increase a pilot's reaction time. Zero is a consciousness, seeing, but not recognizing the cords that bind human beings together in an intricate play of chance and choice. Zero is a child. It is a monstrosity. Zero...is me...  
_  
...

**Ghost Whisper**: Bwaa-haa-haa


End file.
